DUKE 

UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


THE  LIFE  OF  JOHN  LOCKE. 

VOL.  II. 


? 


“I  think  every  one,  according  to  what  way  providence  has  placed  him  in, 
is  bound  to  labour  for  the  public  good  as  far  as  he  is  able  ; or  else  he  has  no 
right  to  eat.”  (A  letter  from  Locke  to  William  Molynenx.) 

“ He  was  always,  in  the  greatest  and  in  the  smallest  affairs  of  human  life,  as 
well  as  in  speculative  opinions,  disposed  to  follow  reason,  whosoever  it  were  that 
suggested  it, : he  being  ever  a faithful  servant,  I had  almost  said,  a slave,  to 
truth;  never  abandoning  her  for  anything  else,  and  following  her  for  her  own 
sake  purely.”  (A  letter  from  Lady  Masham  to  Jean  Le  Clerc.) 


THE 


\ 


LIFE  OF  JOHN  LOCKE. 


By  H.  R.  FOX  BOURNE. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 
VOLUME  II. 


NEW  YORK: 

HARPER  & BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN  SQUARE. 

1876. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/lifeofjohnlocke21bour 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  II, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Residence  in  Holland  [1683 — 1689], 

Locke’s  experience  of  English  politics  under  Charles  the  Second — the 

different  conditions  in  Holland  ....  1 — 5 

His  first  year  in  Holland — friends  in  Amsterdam — Philip  van  Limborch 

and  the  Remonstrants — a tour  in  the  Seven  Provinces — Leyden  . 5 — 16 

A winter  at  Utrecht — Locke’s  supposed  implication  in  Monmouth’s  re- 
bellion, and  his  consequent  troubles — concealment  in  Amsterdam — - 
James  the  Second’s  “ pardon  — a short  visit  to  Cleve  . . 16  —26^' 

Intercourse  and  correspondence  with  Limborch — Jean  le  Clerc — the 

‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia  ’ . . . . . 26 — 41 

Intercourse  with  Le  Clerc — contributions  to  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Univer- 

selle  ’ — beginning  of  authorship  ....  42 — 46 

Second  residence  in  Amsterdam — second  stay  at  Utrecht — forced  return 

to  Amsterdam — removal  to  Rotterdam  . . . 46 — 53 

Share  in  the  preparations  for  the  Revolution  of  1688 — relations  with 

English  politicians — Lord  Mordaunt — William  of  Orange  . 54 — 58 

Life  in  Rotterdam  with  Benjamin  Furly — a holiday  in  Amsterdam — 
letters  to  Furly  and  William  Charleton — illness  at  Rotterdam — a last 
visit  to  Amsterdam — correspondence  with  Limborch  and  Le  Clerc — 
last  occupations  in  Holland  ....  58 — 82 

Return  to  England — farewell  letters  to  Limborch  . . . 82 — 86 


383575 


VI 11 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

‘Concerning  Human  Understanding’  [1671 — 1690]. 

The  origin  and  growth  of  the  Essay — debts  to  Hobbes  and  Gassendi — the 
abstract  of  it  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle  ’ — the  order  of  its 
composition  . . ....  87 — 102 

The  purpose  and  method  of  the  ‘Essay’— Book  I.  : So-called  “Innate 
Principles” — Book  II. : Ideas;  their  Origin  ; Sensation  and  Reflec- 
tion ; Primary  and  Secondary  Qualities  ; Simple  and  Complex 
Ideas  ; Pleasure  and  Pain,  Good  and  Evil,  Happiness  and  Misery  ; 

Power  and  Liberty,  Will  and  “Free  Will” — Book  III.:  Words; 
their  Object,  Use  and  Abuse — Book  IV  : Knowledge  ; its  Nature, 
Degrees  and  Extent ; Reason  its  only  Test  ; the  proper  method  of 
Ethics  ; the  Existence  of  God  ; the  Validity  of  Revelation  . 103 — 134 

The  value  of  the  ‘Essay’ — its  chief  merit — its  chief  blemish  . 134 — -139 

The  printing  of  the  first  edition  ....  139 — 141 


CHAPTER  XL 


- In 


Aid  of  the  Revolution  [1689 — 1692]. 


The  accession  of  William  and  Mary — Locke’s  share  in  the  Revolution — his  ^ — 
refusal  of  ambassadorship  to  Brandenburg — his  appointment  as  com- 
missioner of  appeals — relations  with  the  Earl  of  Monmouth — the 
comprehension  and  toleration  bills — Locke’s  views  thereon — his  occu- 
pations at  this  time — Sir  J ohn  Somers  and  the  parliamentary  elections 
in  1690 — political  changes  ....  142  —164 

Locke’s  ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ — his  answer  to  Sir  Robert 
Filmer’s  ‘Patriarcha’ — his  Essay  on  ‘Civil  Government;’  man  in 
“the  state  of  nature;”  Locke’s  law  of  property;  “the  origin  and 
extent  of  civil  government;”  legislative  and  executive  power,  and 
their  limits;  representation  of  the  people;  Locke’s  justification  of 
the  Revolution — the  value  of  his  second  treatise  . . 165 — 180 


Locke’s  ‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia’  and  its  English  version  as  ‘A  Letter 


CONTENTS. 


IX 


concerning  Toleration  ’—the  opposition  offered  to  it — ‘ A Second 
Letter  concerning  Toleration’  and  ‘ A Third, Letter  for  Toleration  ’ 

— the  Society  of  Pacific  Christians  ....  1 80 — L87 
i/Locke’s  ‘ Considerations  of  the  consequences  ot  the  Lowering  of  Interest 
and  "Raising  the  Yalue  of  Money  the  impotence  of  usury  laws  to 
benefit  trade ; interest  and  rent ; the  value  of  money — the  evils  of  a 
depreciated  currency — proposals  for  reforming  it  . . 187 — 198 

Locke’s  petition  for  restoration  of  his  Christ  Church  studentship — his 
residence  and  occupations  in  London — his  friends  there — corre- 
spondence with  Limborch  . . . . 198 — 209 


CHAPTER  XII. 

In  Retirement  : Work  as  an  Author  [1691 — 1696]. 

Lady  Masham  and  her  family  connections — Locke’s  renewed  intimacy  with 

her — his  residence  at  Oates  ....  210 — 215 

Friendship  and  correspondence  with  Newton — Newton’s  office-seeking— 
his  biblical  studies — his  ‘ Historical  Account  of  two  Notable  Corrup- 
tions of  Scripture  ’ — Boyle’s  experiments  in  gold-making — Locke’s 
last  services  to  Boyle — Newton’s  complaint  against  Locke,  and  the 
apology  ......  215 — 227 

Occupations  and  correspondence  between  1691  and  1693 — a letter  on  the 
death  of  Furly’s  wife — letters  to  Limborch  and  others — Edward 
Clarke — employment  at  Oates  and  in  London — Limborch’s  ‘Historia 
Inquisitionis  ’ — Archbishop  Tillotson — William  Molyneux  and  his 
brother — Betty  Clarke — surroundings  at  Oates  . . 228 — 253 

‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education  ; ’ physical  training,  clothing, 
diet,  and  medicine  ; moral  training,  petting,  self-denial,  rewards  and 
punishments  ; mental  trainings  the  scope  of  education — correspond- 
ence with  Molyneux  respecting  the  treatise  . . . 253 — 269 

The  second  edition  of  ‘ An  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding  ’ — 
correspondence  with  Molyneux  thereon — the  third  edition  of  the 
* Essay’ — its  translation  into  Latin — Wynne’s  abridgment  of  it — ‘An 
Examination  of  Pere  Malebranche’s  opinion  of  Seeing  all  Tilings 
in  God  ’ — a proposed  treatise  on  ethics  . . . 269 — 283 


383575 


X 


CONTENTS. 


‘The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  as  delivered  in  the  Scriptures’ — 
Locke’s  view  of  a reasonable  Christianity — Adam’s  fall ; death  and 
“ original  sin  ; ” the  redemption  by  Christ  ; the  nature  of  Christ’s 
mission  ; Christian  ethics — opposition  to  Locke’s  treatise — his  first 
‘ Vindication  ’ . . - . . . 281 — 293 

Miscellaneous  occupations  and  correspondence  between  1693  and  1696 — 
visits  to  London — the  Bank  of  England — Laudabridis — correspond- 
ence with  Molyneux  and  others — a letter  about  freemasonry  . 293 — 308 


v/  CHAPTER  XIII. 

In  the  Service  of  the  State  [1695 — 1700]. 

Locke’s  connection  with  public  affairs  while  at  Oates — share  in  abolishing 
the  censorship  of  the  press — political  changes — ‘ Old  England’s  Legal 
Constitution  ’ — share  in  the  reform  of  the  currency  and  the  new 
coinage — ‘Further  Considerations  concerning  Raising  the  Value  of 
Money  ’ — the  re-coinage  bill  and  its  issue — tracts  and  correspondence 
on  the  subject  ......  309 — 343 

Occupations  as  commissioner  of  appeals  ....  344 — 346 

The  commission  of  trade  and  plantations — Locke’s  appointment  as  a 
member  of  it — his  share  in  its  duties — his  proposed  resignation — his 
efforts  and  proposals  to  encourage  the  linen  manufacture  in  Ireland 
— other  work — his  scheme  for  reform  of  the  poor  laws — his  resigna- 
tion .......  346 — 394 

An  offer  of  fresh  employment  and  its  issue — political  changes — ‘A 
Letter,’  in  satirical  verse,  on  Somers’s  dismissal  from  the  lord  chan- 
cellorship , ....  394 — 403 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Controversy  : Later  Writings  [1696 — 1700]. 

Locke’s  share  in  the  trinitarian  controversy- -Bury ’s  ‘ Naked  Gospel’  and 
the  Unitarian  tracts — Edwards’s  attacks  on  Locke  and  his  ‘ Second 
Vindication  of  the  Reasonableness  of  Christianity’ — Poland’s  ‘ Chris- 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


tianity  not  Mysterious  ’ — Stillingfleet’s  attack  on  Locke — his  ‘ Letter  ’ 
and  first  and  second  ‘ Replies  ’ to  Stillingfleet,  and  Stillingfleet’s 
‘Answers’ — other  attacks  on  Locke  . . . 404 — 439 

The  fourth  edition  of  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding  ; ’ and 
the  French  and  Latin  versions  of  it — Locke’s  final  corrections  and 
additions  ......  439 — 442 

‘ The  Conduct  of  the  Understanding  ’ . . . , 443 — 449 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Last  Years  [1696—1704]. 

Locke’s  miscellaneous  occupations  and  correspondence  between  1696  and 
1700 — his  cousin,  Peter  King— Rebecca  Collier,  the  quaker  preacher 
— letters  to  Esther  Masham — failing  health  and  serious  illness  in 
1698 — Molyneux’s  political  troubles — his  visit  to  London  and  death 
— correspondence  with  Limborch  and  Thoynard — a letter  on  reading 
and  study — a plan  for  reforming  the  calendar  . . 450 — 478 


Retirement  at  Oates — illness  in  1700  and  the  following  winter — a new 
year’s  letter  to  Thoynard — Locke’s  interest  in  political  affairs — advice 
to  Peter  King — Limborch’s  son — occupations  at  Oates — controversy 
with  Limborch — biblical  studies — an  essay  and  commentaries  on 
Paul’s  epistles  . . . . . 479 — 501 


William  the  Third’s  last  parliament  and  the  war  of  the  Spanish  succession 
— medical  advice  to  Limborch — Benjamin  Furly  and  his  son  Arent — 
the  Earl  of  Peterborough’s  visit  to  Oates — a last  letter  to  Edward 
Clark — acquaintance  with  Anthony  Collins  and  correspondence  with 
him — a fourth  ‘ Letter  on  Toleration  ’ . . . 501 — 524 


"Review  of  Locke’s  work  and  character — his  achievements  in  philosophy 

and  other  studies — his  services  in  practical  affairs — his  temper  and 

bearing  among  his  friends — the  grace  and  versatility  of  his  disposi- 
tion— his  humour — his  charity — his  hot  temper — his  trustworthiness 
— his  personal  habits^- his  reading  and  mode  of  study  . . 524—540 


XII 


CONTENTS. 


Locke’s  will — his  increasing  illness— visits  from  Peter  King,  Anthony 
Collins,  and  others — his  new  carnage — last  letters  to  Limborch, 

Collins  and  King — King’s  wedding  entertainment — Locke’s  last  days 
— his  death — his  epitaph  .....  540 — 561 


Index 


. 5C2— 574 


THE  LIFE  OF  JOHN  LOCKE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Residence  in  Holland. 

[1683—1689.] 

LOCKE  was  in  his  fifty-second  year  when  he  went  into 
voluntary  exile  in  Holland. 

In  1660,  when  he  was  twenty-seven,  the  presbyterian 
tyranny  of  the  dying  Commonwealth  had  not  weakened 
his  love  of  liberty,  hut  had  crushed  his  hopes  of  seeing 
it  secured  by  the  methods  with  which  in  his  youth 
he  must  have  been  taught  to  sympathise.  “I  find,” 
he  had  then  written,  “that  a general  freedom  is  but 
a general  bondage,  that  the  popular  assertors  of  public 
liberty  are  the  greatest  engrossers  of  it  too.  I therefore 
cannot  but  entertain  the  approaches  of  a calm  with 
the  greatest  joy  and  satisfaction ; and  this,  methinks, 
obliges  me,  both  in  duty  and  gratitude,  to  endeavour  the 
continuance  of  such  a blessing  by  disposing  men’s  minds 
to  obedience  to  that  government  which  has  brought  with 
it  the  quiet  settlement  which  even  our  giddy  folly  had 
put  beyond  the  reach,  not  only  of  our  contrivance,  hut 
hopes.”  Not  then,  or  for  some  time  afterwards,  making 
politics  his  special  business,  but  resolving  to  be  a student 
of  philosophy  and  science — believing  that  he  could  best  do 
VOL.  II.— 1 


2 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


/ 


his  share  of  work  in  the  world  as  a physician,  and  already 

r hoping,  perhaps,  that  he  might  do  something  towards 
curing  other  than  bodily  ailments  by  finding  out  what  was 
the  structure  of  their  minds,  and  how  they  might  ac- 
quire most  wisdom  and  fitness  for  wise  action— we  can 
understand  why  he  had  welcomed  “ the  happy  return  of  his 
majesty”  King  Charles  the  Second.  His  favourite  studies 
had  never  been  abandoned  ; he  had  clung  to  them  all  the 
more  zealously  because  other  occupations  had  been  so 
forced  upon  him  as  to  threaten  to  divert  him  from  them 
altogether.  His  broken  health  had  joined  with  other 
causes  to  prevent  him  from  becoming  a regular  physician, 
but  he  had  continued  to  he  a diligent  student  of  medicine. 
He  had  been  induced  to  take  an  active  though  not  at 
all  a noisy  part  in  political  affairs ; but  the  ugly  complica- 
tions of  the  politics  of  his  time,  which  he  had  to  help  in 
unravelling,  had  only  shown  him  the  great  need  of  better 
mental  training  in  order  to  smooth  out  the  tangled  threads 
of  life  and  clear  away  some  of  the  vicious  notions  that 
were  spoiling  it  all.  It  had  been  tedious,  painful  work, 
and  he  must  have  felt  now  that  his  toil  had  been  well  nigh 
thrown  away.  We  have  seen  how,  during  the  past  four 
years,  he  had  over  and  over  again  longed  to  go  away  from 
corrupted  Europe,  and  try,  with  one  true  friend,  to  find  a 
new  Garden  of  Eden  on  the  other  side  of  Africa,  or  to 
fashion  a new  Utopia  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
The  longings  may  have  been  uttered  half  in  jest,  but  they 
none  the  less  sadly  expressed  his  temper,  or  certain 
phases  of  his  temper,  at  this  time. 

What  was  his  position  in  this  gloomy  autumn  of  1683  ? 
Sixteen  years  before  he  had  broken  through  his  plans  of 
work  in  order  to  join  with  Shaftesbury  in  labouring  to 
establish  some  measure  of  religious  and  political  liberty, 


1683.  1 
iEt.  51.  J 


THE  DEGRADATION  OF  ENGLAND. 


3 


and  Shaftesbury  had  only  avoided  the  gibbet  by  going 
to  die  in  Amsterdam.  Bussell,  Shaftesbury’s  worthier 
associate,  and  Locke’s  own  friend  to  some  extent,  bad,  in 
defiance  of  the  law,  been  beheaded  a few  weeks  before, 
heedless  of  the  cruel  warning  of  Locke’s  more  intimate 
friend  Tillotson,  that  unless  be  submitted  himself  meekly 
to  the  God-sent  king,  he  “ would  leave  the  world  in  a 
delusion  of  false  peace,  and  bis  eternal  happiness  would 
be  hindered.”  Algernon  Sidney,  also  an  acquaintance 
if  not  a friend  of  Locke’s,  was  now  in  the  Tower  waiting 
to  be  executed,  in  yet  greater  defiance  of  the  law,  a few 
weeks  later.  Lords  Essex  and  Salisbury,  other  martyrs  in 
the  good  cause,  with  whom  Locke  also  bad  at  any  rate 
some  acquaintance,  bad  lately  died  in  the  Tower ; the 
one  of  “ a fever  on  his  spirits,”  1 the  other  either  by  bis 
own  or  by  an  assassin’s  hand.  “ Fever  on  the  spirits  ” 
was  a common  malady  just  then,  for  which  neither  Dr. 
Sydenham  nor  any  other  physician  could  prescribe  a 
remedy ; and  Locke,  with  so  many  political  friends  and 
allies  dead  or  dying  around  him,  himself  spied  upon  and 
plotted  against  by  his  academic  associates,  in  hope  of 
finding  some  pretext  for  making  a martyr  of  him  too, 
could  not  hut  be  afflicted  with  it.  England  had  been 
ruined,  though  not  quite  past  redemption,  by  that 
monarch  at  whose  “happy  return”  he  had  rejoiced 
three-and-twenty  years  before.  The  “ divine-right  ” king 
had  Louis  the  Fourteenth  for  his  god  on  earth,  and  prayed 


1 See  a narrative  by  Mrs.  Hill,  Stringer’s  widow  (Christie,  ‘ Life  of  the 
first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,’  vol.  ii. , appendix  pp.  cxxiii. — cxxix.),  who  adds: 
“Dr.  Sydenham  was  his  [Salisbury’s]  physician,  and  Mr.  Stringer  often  told 
him  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  save  him  ; and  the  doctor  told  him  if  he  could 
cure  him  of  thinking  too  much  of  the  danger  the  nation  was  in  of  popery, 
etc.,  he  could  cure  his  fever ; but  he  laid  that  danger  so  much  to  heart  that 
he  lost  his  life  for  it.” 


4 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


to  him,  witli  a zeal  that  put  to  shame  the  religious  devo- 
tion of  popes  and  prelates,  for  those  golden  favours  that 
enabled  him  to  occupy  the  English  throne  without  help 
of  parliaments ; while  all  his  other  faculties  of  worship 
were  exhausted  on  harlots,  old  and  young.  Justice,  virtue, 
honesty,  and  religion,  were  out  of  court,  if  not  quite 
banished  from  the  country.  Judge  Jeffreys  represented 
the  first,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  the  second,  the  Duke 
of  Sunderland  the  third,  Bishop  Parker  the  fourth.  And 
the  only  prospect  of  a change  from  this  state  of  things 
depended  on  the  death  of  Charles  and  the  succession  of 
his  brother  James,  when  to  all  the  social  depravity  would 
he  added  a religious  bigotry  eclipsing  the  intolerance 
then  vigorous  enough.  It  is  not  strange  that  Locke,  who 
had  so  often  longed  for  a Utopia,  should  have  gone  in 
search  of  one  at  last. 

The  Utopia  that  he  found  was  not  very  far  from  home, 
and,  faulty  as  it  was,  was  the  best  that  that  age  could  be 
expected  to  produce.  The  glory  of  those  days  when 
the  brave  Netherlander s rose  up,  under  the  leadership  of 
William  the  Silent,  to  save  themselves  and  the  world  from 
the  thraldom  of  Philip  of  Spain,  had  a good  deal  faded  in 
the  century  that  followed;  but,  before  the  century  was 
ended,  their  descendants  did  nearly  as  great  service  to 
Europe  in  holding  at  bay  the  new  would-be  Caesar,  Louis 
the  Fourteenth ; and  in  proportion  to  the  loathing  that 
Locke  and  every  honest  man  then  felt  at  the  degradation 
of  England,  must  have  been  their  respect  for  the  heroic 
action  of  the  United  Provinces.  Especially  welcome,  too, 
to  Locke,  must  have  been  the  close  connection,  not  always 
recurrent  in  the  world’s  history,  between  their  zeal  for 
political  and  religious  liberty  and  their  freedom  from 
religious  and  political  intolerance. 


1P83.  "I 

.act.  5i.  J 


THE  DUTCH  UTOPIA. 


5 


The  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  in  spite  of  his  former  eager- 
ness in  supporting  the  iniquitous  wars  of  England  against 
Holland,  was  sheltered  by  its  people  when  he  sought  refuge 
among  them  in  his  time  of  trouble.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  Locke  followed  his  friend’s  example  because  he  also 
was  in  need  of  a political  asylum.  Even  in  Holland,  as 
we  shall  see,  he  was  for  some  time  not  safe,  and  it  became 
necessary  for  him  to  seek  temporary  shelter  elsewhere. 
But,  in  his  case,  no  blame  could  be  attached  to  the 
political  institutions  of  the  country ; and  it  was  not 
possible  for  him  to  find  fault  with  its  allowance,  and  even 
encouragement,  of  greater  freedom  of  opinion  on  religious 
matters  than  was  then  tolerated  in  any  other  part  of 
Europe.  This  freedom,  of  course,  implied  a good  deal  of 
wrangling ; but  it  was  no  slight  improvement  upon  the 
arrangements  existing  elsewhere,  that  here  thinkers  of  all 
sorts  were  allowed  to  give  free  utterance  to  their  opinions 
without  meeting  any  worse  resistance  than  the  angry 
expostulations,  and  the  arguments  as  outspoken  as  their 
own,  of  those  who  differed  from  them.  So,  at  any  rate, 
Locke  thought ; and  if  his  long  sojourn  in  Holland  led 
to  some  changes  in  his  opinions,  it  only  strengthened 
his  old  convictions  in  favour  of  religious  and  political 
liberty. 


About  Locke’s  movements  and  occupations  during 
several  months  after  his  departure  from  England  in  the 
autumn  of  1683  we  have  very  little  information.  He 
appears  to  have  gone  direct  to  Amsterdam  ; but  we  do 
not  meet  with  him  there  until  the  following  January, 
when  he  was  present,  by  invitation  of  Peter  Gruenellon, 
the  principal  physician  in  the  city,  at  the  dissection  of  a 


6 


KESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


lioness  that  had  been  killed  by  the  intense  coldness  of  the 
winter.1  He  had  made  Guenellon’s  acquaintance  six  or 
seven  years  before  in  Paris  ; and  this  friendship,  which 
seems  to  have  been  kept  np  by  letter  in  the  interval, 
helped  him  to  make  many  new  friends  among  the  doctors, 
men  of  letters  and  theologians  in  the  busy  centre  of 
Hutch  intelligence  and  learning  as  well  as  of  Hutch 
commerce.  Of  these  new  friends,  the  most  important 
of  all,  as  far  as  Locke  was  concerned,  at  any  rate,  was 
Philip  van  Limhorch. 

They  met  first  at  the  gathering  of  learned  men  to  see 
the  lioness  cut  up.  “When  Mr.  Locke  heard  from  Hr. 
Guenellon,”  Limhorch  wrote  twenty  years  later,  “ that  I 
was  professor  of  theology  among  the  remonstrants,  he 
introduced  himself  to  me,  and  we  afterwards  had  many 
conversations  about  religion,  in  which  he  acknowledged 
that  he  had  long  attributed  to  the  remonstrants  doctrines 
very  different  from  those  which  they  held,  and  now  that 
he  understood  what  they  really  were,  he  was  surprised 
to  find  how  closely  they  agreed  with  many  of  his  own 
opinions.”  2 

That  Locke  should  till  now  have  been  ignorant  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  remonstrants  is  hardly  credible,  seeing 
that  several  of  his  own  friends  had  for  some  time  past 
been  in  occasional  correspondence  with  Limborch  and 
others  of  their  number. 

Nearly  eighty  years  before  those  doctrines  had  been  in 
part  propounded  by  Arminius,  who  was  made  professor  of 
theology  at  Leyden  in  1604 ; and  soon  after  that  date 
they  began  to  stir  up  much  angry  discussion  throughout 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants  Library ; Limborch  to  Lady  Masham,  [13 — ] 
24  March,  1704-5. 

2 Ibid. 


1683.  I 
m.  51.  J 


LIMBORCH  AND  HIS  SCHOOL. 


7 


Europe,  and  a bitter  theological  war  of  words  in  Holland. 
A greater  Arminian  than  Arminius  was  Episcopius.  His 
teachings  on  many  points — points  as  important  as  the 
personality  of  the  Trinity  and  the  questions  of  free-will 
and  election — were  vague  and  contradictory ; but  he 
boldly  maintained  that  the  Gospels  contain  everything 
that  Christians  ought  to  believe,  and  that  men  must  be 
left  to  use  their  own  free  judgment  in  seeing  how  much 
they  can  believe  ; in  other  words,  that  there  should  be  no 
appointed  creed,  and  that  men  should  be  expected  to  agree 
only  in  imitating  as  far  as  they  can  in  their  own  lives 
the  virtues  embodied  in  the  life  of  Christ.  But  latitudi- 
narianism,  of  course,  was  hateful  to  the  Dutch  Calvinists. 
The  remonstrants,  so  called  on  account  of  the  remon- 
strance or  petition  which  they  had  presented  to  the  states- 
general  in  1610,  were  formally  and  fiercely  condemned  at 
the  protestant  synod  of  Dort  in  1619 ; and  during  the 
next  ten  or  twelve  years  they  were  subjected  to  as  bitter 
a persecution  as  a body  of  clergymen,  with  zealous  cham- 
pions in  the  municipal  and  other  organisations,  could 
bring  about.  But,  though  the  hatred  that  grew  out  of 
this  quarrel  lasted  long,  actual  persecution  was  soon 
stayed.  In  1630  the  first  church  of  the  remonstrants 
was  founded,  at  Amsterdam  ; and  the  society  of  remon- 
strants was  established  or  re-established  in  an  orderly  way 
in  1632.  Two  years  later,  the  remonstrants’  seminary, 
in  connection  with  the  church,  was  started ; and  Epis- 
copius was  principal  and  professor  of  theology  in  it  from 
1634  until  his  death  in  1643.  Under  his  guidance,  and 
that  of  his  successors,  the  movement  spread ; though,  there 
being  no  creeds  and  hardly  any  system  of  church  govern- 
ment to  form  bonds  of  union  among  the  members,  it  was 
a movement  rather  adapted  to  encourage  liberal  opinions 


8 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


among  the  members  of  other  sects  than  to  build  up  any 
formidable  sect  of  its  own.1 

Limborch  was  the  grand-nephew  of  Episcopius.  Bom 
at  Amsterdam  in  June,  1633,  less  than  a year  after  Locke, 
be  succeeded  to  the  pastorship  of  the  church  in  1668,  and 
to  the  chief  professorship  in  the  seminary  in  1669.  By 
his  learning  and  worth  he  made  the  small  body  of  the 
remonstrants  famous  among  all  the  ablest  thinkers  in 
Europe  who  concerned  themselves  with  theological  ques- 
tions. Already  he  had  formed  friendships,  personally  or 
by  letter,  with  Henry  More,  Kalph  Cudworth,  and  many 
other  liberal-minded  theologians,  both  foreign  and  Eng- 
lish;2 and  when  Locke  made  his  acquaintance  he  was 
busy  upon  his  most  important  work,  the  ‘ Theologia 
Christiana,’  which  proved  to  be  an  abler  exposition  of 
unsectarian  and  undogmatic  Christianity  than  had  ever 
before  been  published. 

Of  the  close  and  affectionate  relations  that  existed 
between  Locke  and  Limborch  during  nearly  twenty  years 
we  shall  have  abundant  evidence  in  the  course  of  this 
volume.  Their  acquaintance,  however,  does  not  seem  to 

1 There  are  now  about  twenty  remonstrant  churches,  and  six  thousand 
communicants,  in  various  parts  of  Holland,  as  I am  informed  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  J.  Tideman,  emeritus  professor  and  custodian  of  the  library,  as  well  as 
minister  of  the  church  at  Amsterdam.  The  seminary  was  removed  to  Leyden 
in  1872  ; hut  the  church  and  its  offices  remain  almost  exactly  as  they  were 
in  Locke’s  day.  I take  this  opportunity  of  thanking  Dr.  Tideman  for  the 
kind  and  zealous  way  in  which  he  aided  me  in  my  researches  while  I was  in 
Amsterdam,  and  afterwards.  I am  also  much  indebted  to  Mr.  Frederick 
Muller,  the  great  publisher  and  collector  of  old  literature  in  Amsterdam,  for 
his  assistance. 

2 A great  number  of  their  letters  are  preserved  in  the  Remonstrants’ 
Library  at  Amsterdam.  See  some  account  of  them  in  Van  der  Hoeven, 
‘ De  Philippo  a Limborch  ’ (Amsterdam  1843),  pp.  36 — 52,  129 — 144. 


A TOUE  IN  THE  SEVEN  PEOVINCES. 


168 1.  1 
J5t.  51.  J 


9 


have  been  very  intimate  during  the  first  few  months  oi 
Locke’s  stay  in  Holland. 

He  was  now  only  a visitor,  anxious  to  see  as  many  men 
and  things  of  note  as  he  could  meet  with;  and,  though  he 
appears  to  have  passed  the  winter  of  1683-4  chiefly  in 
Amsterdam,  he  was  often  moving  about  in  its  neighbour- 
hood, turning  his  exile  as  much  as  possible  into  a holiday, 
and  making  it  his  especial  business  to  recruit  his  health 
as  far  as  he  could.  Only  a few~  unimportant  records  of 
his  occupations  prior  to  the  beginning  of  August  have 
been  preserved.  We  are  able,  however,  to  follow  him 
through  a three  months’  tour  in  the  Seven  Provinces,  on 
which  he  then  started  from  Amsterdam  ; and  his  account 
of  the  journey,  besides  its  personal  interest,  furnishes 
some  welcome  illustrations  of  Dutch  life  two  centuries 
ago. 

A six  hours’  ride,  on  the  6th  of  August,  took  him 
through  Haarlem,  then  a busier  trading  and  manufac- 
turing town  than  now,  to  Alkmaar,  in  North  Holland. 
“ A pretty  little  town,  very  clean,  but  seems  rather  in  a 
decaying  than  a thriving  condition,”  he  described  it:  “ the 
church  large,  built  like  a cathedral.  The  great  merchan- 
dise of  the  town  is  cheese,  which  the  pastures  round 
about  it  furnish.  About  a league  and  a half  is  Egmond, 
the  ancient  seat  of  the  counts  of  Egmond.”1  Locke  was 
here  surrounded  by  the  most  venerable  relics  of  Dutch 
history,  walking  among  ruins  of  castles  and  abbeys,  from 
which  in  far-off  times  the  neighbouring  districts  had  been 

1 Lord  King,  p.  161.  While  in  Holland,  as  before  while  in  France, 
Locke  used  the  new  style  of  chronology.  In  my  extracts  from  his  journal, 
and  in  quoting  from  his  letters  and  those  of  his  friends,  I have  therefore 
altered  the  dates  so  as  to  correspond  with  the  old  style  then  used  in 
England. 


10 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


ruled  and  wisely  guided  in  civilization ; tlie  abbeys  and 
castles,  andAlkmaar  itself — the  name  signifying  “ all  sea” 
— being  built  on  land  recovered  from  the  ocean. 

Next  day  he  crossed  the  little  peninsula  to  Hoorn,  and 
went  thence  to  Enkhuizen,  then  containing  nearly  eight 
times  as  many  inhabitants  as  now,  and  a commercial 
rival  of  Amsterdam.  “From  Hoorn  to  Enkhuizen,”  a 
distance  of  ten  miles,  he  said,  “the  way  all  pitched  with 
clinkers,  and  beset  with  boors’  houses  almost  as  it  were 
one  street.  The  houses  are  of  a pretty  odd  fashion ; the 
barn  joining  to  the  dwelling-house  making  a part  of  it. 
Enkhuizen  has  a fair  East  India  House,  the  most  hand- 
some and  stately  of  anything  in  the  town.  Here  I lay 
at  the  sign  of  the  Golden  Hen.  In  the  same  house, 
twenty-three  years  since,  they  say  the  king  lay  for  a whole 
week  together  in  a little  room  over  the  kitchen,  in  a 
cupboard-bed,  about  five  feet  long.”  1 The  king,  of  course, 
was  Charles  the  Second ; but  this  episode  in  his  truant 
life,  before  he  was  allowed  to  return  to  England,  must 
have  happened  rather  more  than  twenty-three  years  back. 

On  the  8th  of  August  Locke  crossed  the  mouth  of  the 
Zuider  Zee  by  boat,  and,  landing  in  Eriesland,  probably 
at  Stavoren,  proceeded  along  the  shore  to  Workum. 
“ The  land,”  he  wrote  in  his  journal,  “is  secured  against 
the  sea  for  a mile  by  long  piles  driven  in,  a little  inclining 
towards  the  bank,  close  one  by  another,  each  whereof 
cost,  to  be  there  so  placed,  a ducat.  Thirty  or  forty  lime- 
kilns ; the  lime  all  cockle-shells  picked  up  on  the  sea 
strand,  which,  laying  with  turf,  they  burn  to  lime.  The 
ordinary  women  went  most  bare-legged ; but  what  most 
surprised  me  was  to  see  them  have  woollen  cloth  stockings 
reaching  down  to  the  small  of  their  legs,  close  laced,  and 

1 Lord  King,  p.  161. 


JEt.^52.]  IN  NOETH  HOLLAND  AND  FEIESLAND.  11 

yet  bare-foot.”  On  the  following  day,  going  partly  by 
canal  and  partly  by  road  to  Francker,  be  there  saw  the 
Frieslanders’  eccentricities  in  another  aspect.  “It  is  a 
little  fortified  town,  that  one  may  walk  'round  in  half  an 
hour.  It  has  a university ; the  schools  and  library  not 
extraordinary,  which  shows  that  knowledge  depends  not 
on  the  stateliness  of  the  buildings,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  since 
this  university  has  produced  many  learned  men,  and  has 
now  some  amongst  its  professors : the  professors  thirteen 
or  fourteen — the  scholars  three  hundred.  They  have  the 
pictures  of  all  their  professors.  A thing  worthy  imitation 
in  other  places  is,  that  any  one  may  take  his  degree  here 
when  he  is  fit — abilities,  and  not  time,  being  only  looked 
after.  The  fees  are  moderate.”1 

With  the  quaint  industrious  ways  of  the  people  of 
Friesland  Locke  was  much  pleased,  and  he  spent  a fort- 
night in  visiting  various  parts  of  the  province  and  halting 
in  Leeuwarden,  its  ancient  capital,  which  was  then  at  its 
gayest.  On  the  9th  of  August,  he  saw  feudal  republi- 
canism in  state.  “ Henry  Casimir,  prince  of  Nassau, 
governor  and  captain-general  of  the  provinces  of  Friesland 
and  Groningen,  having  about  eight  months  since  married 
the  princess  of  Anhalt,  made  his  public  and  solemn 
entry  into  Leeuwarden,  at  the  public  charge  of  the  states. 
The  cavalcade  and  solemnity  were  suitable  to  the  great- 
ness of  the  government.  That  that  I observed  particular 
in  it  was,  that  when  the  prince  and  his  princess,  with  their 
two  mothers  and  their  two  sisters,  were  alighted  at  his 
house,  and  had  rested  a little,  he  took  the  ladies  with  him 
down  into  the  court,  and  there  placing  them  in  chairs  just 
within  the  outward  gate  which  stood  open,  he  himself 
stood  bare  just  without  the  gate,  whilst  all  the  burghers 
1 Lord  King,  p.  162. 


12 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


who  were  that  day  in  arms  marched  by  and  saluted  him 
with  firing  their  muskets  as  they  passed.  This  lasted 
well  nigh  two  hours,  and  after  that  they  went  to  supper. 
Some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  country,  and  some  of  the 
chief  of  his  officers,  supped  with  him  and  the  ladies,  and 
hereupon  a page  said  grace.  The  prince  is  about  twenty- 
eight  years  old,  little,  and  not  very  handsome  ; but,  as 
they  say,  a man  of  parts,  loving,  and  well-beloved  of  his 
country.”1 

Near  Leeuwarden  was  established  a branch  of  the 
strange  sect  of  communistic  mystics  founded  by  Jean 
Labadie,  who  died  in  1674  ; and  Locke  examined  their 
institutions  with  great  interest.  “ They  receive,”  he 
wrote  on  the  11th  of  August,  “ all  ages,  sexes,  and 
degrees,  upon  approbation,  after  trial.  They  live  all  in 
common ; and  whoever  is  admitted  is  to  give  with  him- 
self all  he  has  to  Christ  the  Lord — that  is,  the  church — to 
be  managed  by  officers  appointed  by  the  church.  It  is  a 
fundamental  miscarriage,  and  such  as  will  deserve  cutting 
off,  to  possess  anything  in  property.  Their  discipline 
whereby  they  prevent  and  correct  offences  is — first,  repre- 
hension ; secondly,  suspension  from  sacrament ; and,  if 
this  makes  no  amendment,  they  cut  him  off  from  their 
body.  Baptism  they  administer  only  to  grown  people, 
who  show  themselves  to  be  Christians  by  their  lives,  as 
well  as  professions.  They  have  been  here  these  nine 
years,  and,  as  they  say,  increase  daily  ; but  yet  I could 
not  learn  their  numbers : Mr.  Yonn  said  a hundred,  Mr. 
Muller,  eighty.  They  are  very  shy  to  give  an  account  of 
themselves,  particularly  of  their  manner  and  rule  of  living 
and  discipline ; and  it  was  with  much  difficulty  I got  so 
much  out  of  them  ; for  they  seemed  to  expect  that  a man 
1 Lord  King,  p 164. 


A DAY  WITH  THE  LABADISTS. 


13 


1084.  "I 
.fit.  52. J 

should  come  there  disposed  to  desire  and  court  admittance 
into  their  society  without  inquiring  into  their  ways  ; and 
if  the  Lord,  as  they  say,  dispose  him  to  it,  and  they  see 
the  signs  of  grace  in  him,  they  will  proceed  to  give  him 
further  instruction ; which  signs  of  grace  seem  to  me  to 
he,  at  last,  a perfect  submission  to  the  will  and  rules  of 
their  pastor,  Mr.  Yonn,  who,  if  I mistake  not,  has  estab- 
lished to  himself  a perfect  empire  over  them.  For  though 
their  censures,  and  all  their  administration,  be  in  appear- 
ance in  their  church,  yet  it  is  easy  to  perceive  how  at  last 
it  determines  in  him.  Hb  is  dominus  factotum ; and 
though  I believe  they  are  much  separated  from  the  world, 
and  are,  generally  speaking,  people  of  very  good  and 
exemplary  lives,  yet  the  tone  of  voice,  manner,  and  fashion, 
of  those  I conversed  with,  seemed  to  make  one  suspect  a 
little  of  Tartuffe.  Besides  that,  all  their  discourse  carries 
with  it  a supposition  of  more  purity  in  them  than  ordinary, 
and  as  if  nobody  was  in  the  way  to  heaven  but  they ; not 
without  a mixture  of  canting,  in  referring  things  imme- 
diately to  the  Lord,  even  on  those  occasions  where  one 
inquires  after  the  rational  means  and  measures  of  pro- 
ceeding ; as  if  they  did  all  things  by  revelation.  It  was 
above  two  hours  after  I came  before  I could  receive 
audience  of  Mr.  Yonn,  though  recommended  by  a friend ; 
and  how  many  offers  soever  I made  towards  it,  I could  not 
be  admitted  to  see  either  their  place  of  exercise,  of  eating, 
or  any  of  their  chambers,  but  was  kept  all  the  while  I was 
there  in  atrio  gentium,  a little  house  without  the  gate  ; 
for,  as  I said  before,  they  seemed  very  shy  of  discovering 
the  secreta  domus,  which  seemed  to  me  not  altogether 
so  suitable  to  the  pattern  of  Christianity.”  1 

Passing  out  of  Friesland  at  the  end  of  August,  Locke 
Lord  King,  p.  162. 


14 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


went  south,  through  Drenthe  and  Over-Yssel,  to  Deventer, 
where  he  saw  some  Christian  communistic  establishments 
of  an  older  sort.  “ Here  are  two  protestant  nunneries. 
One  belongs  to  the  freemen  of  the  town,  and  their 
daughters  only  are  admitted.  These  are  fourteen.  They 
live  altogether  in  one  house.  The  oldest,  of  course,  is 
the  abbess.  They  have  each  a little  garden,  and  their 
dividend  of  the  corn  and  some  land  which  belongs  to 
them,  which  amounts  to  three  or  four  bushels  of  rye. 
Their  meat  and  drink  they  provide  for  themselves,  and 
dress  it  in  a common  kitchen  in  the  summer,  in  the 
winter  in  their  chambers.  There  was  formerly,  before  the 
Reformation,  a convent  of  catholic  nuns  ; and  when  in 
the  last  war  the  bishop  of  Munster  was  possessed  of  this 
town  two  years  together,  he  put  three  catholic  maids  into 
the  nunnery,  which  remain  there  still,  under  the  same 
rules  as  the  others.  There  is,  besides  this,  another 
nunnery  in  the  town,  only  of  the  noblesse  of  the  province  ; 
they  have  each  four  hundred  guilders  per  annum,  one  half 
whereof  the  abbess  has  for  their  board,  the  other  half  they 
have  themselves  to  dispose  of  as  they  please.  They  have 
no  particular  habit,  and  are  often  at  home  with  their 
friends  in  the  country.”  1 

From  Deventer  Locke  went,  on  the  10th  of  September, 
to  visit  Zutphen,  Arnheim,  and  other  places  rendered 
classical  by  the  great  struggle  between  the  Netherlander 
and  Philip  the  Second  of  Spain ; but  his  observations 
were  less  noteworthy  here  than  in  the  more  northern  and 
out-of-the-way  parts.  He  spent  some  days  at  Utrecht, 
and  went  thence  to  Amsterdam  on  the  30th  of  September, 
though  only  to  go  on  the  5th  of  October  to  Leyden,  which 
to  him  was  a classic  spot  indeed. 

1 Lord  King,  p.  165. 


FROM  DEVENTER  TO  LEYDEN. 


15 


1084.  "I 
it.  52. J 

At  Leyden,  Descartes,  his  first  great  master,  had  settled 
down  in  1629,  to  spend  eight  years  of  privacy  in  elabora- 
ting his  method  of  philosophy.  Here,  or  at  Rijnsburg 
hard  by,  Spinoza,  Descartes’s  greatest  and  most  errant 
disciple — unless  Locke  may  be  reckoned  such — had,  in 
1660,  taken  refuge  from  the  persecutions  of  his  Jewish 
kinsfolk  in  Amsterdam.  At  the  university,  founded  only  in 
1575,  but  now  nearly  the  most  famous  in  Europe,  Grotius, 
whom  Locke  looked  up  to  as  his  foremost  teacher  in  politics 
and  all  its  philosophical  and  theological  connections,  had 
in  1594  begun  to  study  under  professors  as  learned  as 
Joseph  Scaliger.  Here  Arminius,  who  had  Grotius  for 
one  of  his  converts  to  unsectarian  Christianity,  taught 
his  simple  doctrines  from  1603  till  his  death  in  1609 ; 
and  here  the  elder  Gronovius  had  been  professor  between 
1651  and  1671.  Of  him  perhaps  Locke  did  not  think  so 
very  highly  ; at  any  rate,  he  spoke  rather  scornfully  of  one 
exploit  of  his  learned  son.  “ The  young  Gronovius,” 
he  wrote  on  the  13th  of  October,  “ made  a solemn  oration 
in  the  schools.  His  subject  was  the  original  of  Romulus. 
At  it  were  present  the  curators  of  the  university  and  the 
professors,  solemnly  ushered  in  by  the  university  officers. 
Music,  instrumental  and  vocal,  began  and  concluded  the 
scene.  The  harangue  itself  began  with  a magnificent  and 
long  compliment  to  the  curators ; and  then,  something 
being  said  to  the  professors  and  scholars,  he  came  to  the 
main  business,  which  was  to  show  that  Romulus  was  not  an 
Italian  horn,  but  came  from  the  east  and  was  of  Palestine 
or  thereabout.  This,  as  I remember,  was  the  design  of 
his  oration,  which  lasted  almost  two  hours.”  1 

Locke  appears  to  have  taken  advantage  of  the  resources 
and  opportunities  of  the  medical  school  at  Leyden,  some 

1 Lord  King,  p.  166. 


16 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


of  the  curiosities  of  which  are  minutely  described  in  his 
journal.  But,  in  this  first  year  of  his  stay  in  Holland  at 
any  rate,  he  spent  only  about  a month  at  Leyden.  He 
was  at  Amsterdam,  in  November,  1684,  when  he  heard  of 
his  expulsion  from  Christ  Church ; and  by  that  arbitrary 
act,  and  other  proceedings  that  followed  it,  his  plans 
were  considerably  altered. 

Thus  far  his  voluntary  exile  in  Holland  had  been  little 
more  than  a holiday,  and,  besides  all  the  profit  that  it 
brought  him  in  other  ways,  this  holiday  had  proved  very 
beneficial  to  his  health.  “For  many  years  past,”  he 
wrote  to  Nicolas  Thoynard,  in  the  first  letter,  dated 
November,  1684,  that  is  extant  after  a gap  of  more  than 
three  years  in  their  correspondence,  “ I have  not  felt 
better  than  now.”1  “ In  Holland, ” said  Lady  Masham, 
“ enjoying  better  health  than  he  had  of  a long  time  done 
in  England,  or  even  in  the  fine  air  of  Montpellier,  he  had 
full  leisure  to  prosecute  his  thoughts  on  the  subject  of 
Human  Understanding — a work  which  in  probability  he 
never  would  have  finished  had  he  continued  in  England.”2 
We  shall  see  that  he  also  made  good  use  of  the  leisure 
that  was  forced  upon  him  in  prosecuting  his  thoughts  on 
other  subjects. 


Having  completed  his  long  tour  through  the  more 
interesting  parts  of  Holland  in  November,  1684,  Locke, 
then  in  Amsterdam,  was  intending,  as  we  have  seen,  to 
pass  the  winter  at  Utrecht,  when  he  heard  of  Hr.  Fell’s 
“moneo  ” against  him,  and  resolved  to  return  at  once  to 

1 Additional  MSS.,  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  28753;  Locke  to  Thoy- 
nard, [18—]  23  Nov.,  1684. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 
Jan.,  1704-5. 


1684-5.  “| 
jEt.  52.J 


A WINTER  AT  UTRECHT. 


17 


England.  On  discovering  that  he  could  do  himself  no 
good  and  might  do  himself  much  harm  by  adopting  that 
course,  he  held  to  his  former  intention.  Though  he  had 
already  some  excellent  friends  in  Amsterdam,  he  ap- 
pears to  have  there  found  himself  forced  into  the  society 
of  other  English  refugees,  with  whose  political  designs  he 
had  little  or  no  sympathy,  and  in  whose  characters  he 
saw  no  ground  for  expecting  that  their  plots  would  bring 
anything  hut  mischief  to  the  cause  of  real  liberty  in 
England.  In  Utrecht  he  thought  that  he  would  have 
more  leisure  and  better  opportunities  for  quiet  thought 
and  work  with  his  pen.  Its  milder  climate  and  healthier 
position  as  compared  with  Amsterdam,  then  much  less 
protected  by  artificial  barriers  from  inclement  weather 
than  now,  were  also  evidently  attractive  to  him. 

In  the  sober  old  town,  which  in  Holland  was  surpassed 
only  by  Leyden  as  a seat  of  learning,  and  in  the  house  of 
Mynheer  van  Gulick,  a painter  living  by  St.  Pieter’s 
Kerk,1  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  cathedral  tower  and 
very  near  to  the  university,  therefore,  he  planted  himself, 
and  all  the  books  and  other  luggage  that  he  had  brought 
from  England,  in  or  about  the  first  week  of  December. 
The  first  extant  letter  from  him  to  Limborch  was  written 
shortly  before  he  left  Amsterdam,  and  in  this  he  asked 
for  an  introduction  to  John  George  Graevius,  the  philo- 
logist and  archasologist,  who  had  been  professor  of  history 
at  Utrecht  since  1660,  “ or  to  some  other  of  his  learned 
friends  there.”  2 With  Graevius  he  soon  formed  a friend- 
ship that  lasted  for  many  years,3  and  he  appears  to  have 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants’  Library;  Locke  to  Le  Clerc,  [22  Sept.—  | 

2 Oct.,  1686. 

2 Ibid.;  Locke  to  [Limborch],  [20 — ] 30  Nov.,  1684. 

3 It  is  said  that  Dr.  Richard  Mead,  who  was  at  this  time  studying 

Vol.  II.— 2 


18 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IS. 


found  other  congenial  society  at  Utrecht,  which  relieved 
the  serious  work — chiefly,  it  would  seem,  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  ‘Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’ — 
to  which,  after  his  year  of  holiday-making,  he  now 
zealously  devoted  himself.  The  severe  winter  affected  his 
health,  but  hardly,  if  we  may  judge  from  some  pleasant, 
gossiping,  but  not  very  important  letters  that  he  wrote  to 
Thoynard,1  his  spirits.  From  the  Abbe  Gendron,  a skilful 
physician  of  Orleans,  with  whom  he  had  become  ac- 
quainted in  1678,  Thoynard  had  obtained  for  him  a 
prescription  which  he  found  very  serviceable.  “ The 
plaster  works  miracles,”  he  wrote  in  the  spring;  “I 
find  myself  much  relieved  since  I have  worn  it,  and  I 
hope  it  will  quite  drive  away  the  malady  which  has  been 
troubling  me.  M.  l’Abbe  is  the  kindest  as  well  as  the 
ablest  of  men.  Tell  him  so,  if  you  please,  lest  he  should 
think  me  ungrateful.”  In  this  letter  Locke  referred  to  a 
wished-for  visit  from  Thoynard,  whom  he  had  so  often 
and  vainly  expected  to  meet  in  England.  “Is  the  good 
news  true  that  I may  hope  soon  to  embrace  you  in  these 
parts  ? This  is  the  one  place  in  the  world  where  I should 
most  desire  to  see  you.”2 

Locke  was  not  himself  much  longer  at  this  period  in 
Utrecht.  In  May  his  plans  of  work  were  roughly  inter- 
rupted. The  sudden  and  unlooked-for  death  of  Charles 
the  Second  on  the  6th  of  February,  1684-5,  though  fol- 
lowed by  the  peaceable  accession  of  James  the  Second, 

medicine  and  other  subjects  at  Utrecht,  and  was  a favourite  pupil  of 
Graevius’s,  had  in  his  possession  several  letters  written  to  Graevius  by 
Locke  ; but  I cannot  trace  them. 

1 Additional  MSS.,  nos.  28753  and  28728;  Locke  to  Thoynard,  [14 — 
24  and  [16—]  26  Feb.,  1684-5. 

2 Ibid.,  no.  28728;  Locke  to  Thoynard,  [30  March — ■]  9 April,  1685. 


19 


^t6852.]  the  duke  of  monmouth’s  rebellion. 

led  quickly  to  the  foolish  insurrection  of  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  and  to  his  execution  after  defeat  at  Sedgmoor 
on  the  15th  of  July  following  ; and  these  events  brought 
upon  Locke  far  greater  trouble  than  the  loss  of  his  Christ 
Church  studentship  seems  to  have  caused  him. 

He  had  carefully  held  aloof  from  Monmouth  during 
their  common  stay  in  Holland.  He  must  have  known 
him  intimately  in  former  years,  when  Shaftesbury  had 
supported  his  claim  to  the  succession,  and  when,  on  one 
occasion  at  least,  Monmouth  had  been  hiding  at  Thanet 
House  during  Locke’s  residence  there.  But,  if  ever  he 
had  heartily  sympathised  with  Shaftesbury’s  schemes,  he 
had  by  this  time  discovered  the  worthlessness  of  Charles 
the  Second’s  selfish,  pleasure-loving,  and  unprincipled 
son  ; and,  while  in  Holland,  he  freely  stated  to  his  friends 
that  “ he  had  no  such  high  opinion  of  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth as  to  expect  anything  from  his  undertaking.”1 
He  was  still  supposed,  however,  to  be  implicated  in  the 
Monmouth  conspiracies ; and,  whatever  other  unfounded 
assertions  may  have  been  made  to  his  prejudice,  the 
report  of  one,  in  itself  sufficient  to  bring  him  into  dis- 
favour with  all  who  believed  it,  has  come  down  to  us. 

When  Lord  Grey  of  Wark,  afterwards  the  Earl  of  Tan- 
kerville,  a contemptible  and  unscrupulous  adventurer  who 
had  been  associated  with  Lord  Shaftesbury,  as  well  as 
with  Lord  Russell  and  Algernon  Sidney,  sought  to  win 
hack  James  the  Second’s  favour  by  a sham  repentance, 
he  tendered  to  the  king  a narrative  of  the  recent  con- 
spiracies, in  which  he  shrank  from  no  falsehood  that 
could  palliate  his  own  disloyalty  and  aggravate  the 
offences  of  his  former  companions.  In  this  narrative 
we  read  that,  towards  the  expenses  of  his  expedition  in 

1 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke,’  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Choisie,’  vol.  vi. 


20 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


April,  1685,  the  Earl  of  Argyll  had  received  “near  .£1000 
from  Mr.  Locke,”  and  also  that  towards  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth’s  subsequent  enterprise  Locke  was  one  of 
several  contributors  of  large  sums  of  money,  the  amounts 
of  which  were  not  named.1 

Lord  Grey’s  statement  being  now  known  to  abound  in 
fabrications,  and  to  be  untrustworthy  in  every  part,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  say  much  in  disproof  of  an  assertion  so 
preposterous.  Locke  was  not  exactly  a poor  man ; but 
his  property,  aided  by  his  annuity  from  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
only  just  sufficed  to  support  him  in  quiet  ways  as  a 
bachelor.  It  is  incredible  that  he  should  have  been  willing 
to  risk  in  Monmouth’s  mad  project  all  or  nearly  all  he 
had  to  live  upon : had  he  done  so,  he  must  have  been 
reduced  to  poverty ; whereas  it  is  evident  that  there  was 
no  material  change  in  his  income  at  this  time,  and  that 
he  certainly  suffered  none  of  the  discomforts  that  would 
have  resulted  from  such  a serious  loss.  Even  had  he 
wished  it,  moreover,  it  would  have  been  impossible  for 
him,  while  living  in  Holland,  to  realise  anything  like  the 
amount  of  money  which  he  was  reported  to  have  sunk  in 
the  abortive  rebellion. 

The  story  appears,  however,  to  have  been  believed  at 
the  time,  as  also  may  have  been  others  equally  false  and 
equally  prejudicial  to  Locke  ; and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  he  was  regarded  as  a dangerous  traitor,  if  not  by  the 
government  of  James  the  Second,  by  some  of  its  agents. 
There  are  some  grounds,  moreover,  for  supposing  that  he 
had  a personal  enemy  in  Sir  George  Downing,  James’s 
representative  at  the  Hague  ; to  co-operate  with  whom,  as 
soon  as  Monmouth’s  plans  were  known,  Colonel  Bevil 

1 ‘ Secret  History  of  the  Rye  House  Piot,  and  of  Monmouth’s  Rebellion,’ 
from  Grey’s  confession  (1754),  pp.  112,  118. 


1685.  1 
■ffit.  52.J 


IN  DANGEE  OF  AEEEST. 


21 


Skelton  was  sent  over  as  a special  envoy  to  the  states- 
general.  On  the  7th  of  May,  1685,  just  before  Mon- 
mouth’s departure  for  the  west  of  England,  Skelton  for- 
mally demanded  the  surrender  of  eighty-four  dangerous 
Englishmen,  plotters  against  the  life  of  King  James  and 
the  peace  of  the  English  nation.1  In  that  list  Locke’s 
name  stood  last.  It  was  not,  we  are  told,  in  the  original 
list  sent  from  London,  but  had  been  added  by  “ the 
English  consul  in  Holland.”  2 Whether  Downing  made 
the  addition  on  his  own  responsibility,  or  in  obedience  to 
orders  forwarded  to  him  after  the  first  list  had  been  de- 
spatched, the  issue  was  the  same  to  Locke. 

Perhaps  there  was  not  much  actual  danger  to  him  in 
this  affair.  Skelton’s  list  of  traitors  was  forwarded  by 
William  of  Orange  and  the  states-general  to  the  magis- 
trates in  Amsterdam  and  the  other  towns  in  which  the 
traitors  were  supposed  to  be  harboured,  with  orders  for 
their  arrest  and  detention  until  the  wishes  of  James  the 
Second  as  to  their  disposal  were  known.  But  William  of 
Orange,  though  anxious  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  his 
father-in-law,  was  not  anxious  to  obey  him  ; and  the  local 
magistrates,  especially  in  Amsterdam,  were  far  more  inde- 
pendent and  far  more  friendly  towards  all  opponents  of  the 
catholic  king  of  England  than  were  the  central  authori- 
ties at  the  Hague.  There  is  nothing  to  show  that  any  of 
the  proscribed  persons  were  given  up  to  the  English 
government,  or  that  anything  more  than  a very  slight 
show  of  searching  for  them  was  attempted.  The  danger 
seemed  real  enough  at  the  time,  however,  and  Locke  and 
his  friends  had  good  reason  to  be  alarmed. 

He  had  won  the  affection  of  some  very  zealous  friends 

1 ‘ Histoire  des  Evenemens  Tragiques  d’Angleterre  ’ (1686). 

2 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke.’ 


22  RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND.  [Chap.  ix. 

by  this  time,  Limborch  being  prominent  among  them,  as 
well  as  his  older  acquaintance,  Dr.  Peter  Guenellon,  and 
Guenellon’s  father-in-law,  Dr.  Yeen.  When  the  demand 
for  his  surrender  was  made  in  May,  1685,  he  was  at 
Utrecht,  whither  he  had  gone  from  Amsterdam  in  the 
previous  December.  Either  during  his  short  autumn 
stay  in  Amsterdam,  or  during  his  longer  residence  there 
in  the  early  part  of  1684,  he  had  been  anxious,  we  are 
told,  to  lodge  in  Guenellon’s  house ; but  Guenellon  had 
declined  the  proposal,  “ because  it  was  not  the  custom  of 
their  city  to  entertain  strangers,  though  otherwise  he  had 
a great  esteem  for  him,  and  was  very  well  pleased  with  his 
visits.”  “ But  when  Dr.  Guenellon  perceived  the  danger 
Mr.  Locke  was  in,”  it  is  added,  “ and  that  it  was  time  to 
do  him  a kindness,  he  kindly  persuaded  his  father-in-law, 
Dr.  Yeen,  to  entertain  him  in  his  house,  and  wrote  to 
Utrecht  to  inform  him  of  this  arrangement.”  Guenellon 
did  more  than  that.  “ He  consulted  one  of  the  chief 
magistrates  of  the  town  to  know  if  Mr.  Locke  might  be 
safe  there ; who  replied  that  he  could  not  protect  him  if 
the  king  of  England  sent  for  him,  but  that  he  would  not 
betray  him,  and,  if  inquiry  was  made,  would  not  fail  to 
give  notice  of  it  to  Dr.  Yeen.”  1 

Limborch  was  the  bearer  of  Guenellon’s  letter  to  Locke, 
reporting  the  plans  that  had  been  made  for  his  safety. 
“ By  Dr.  Yeen’s  direction,”  he  said,  “I  offered  him  his 
house  as  a place  of  concealment,  in  which  he  could  stay 
without  any  one’s  knowledge.  I took  him  there,  often 
visited  him  in  his  solitude,  and  conversed  with  him  for 
many  hours  at  a time.  All  his  friends’  letters  were,  by 
his  desire,  sent  to  me  to  be  forwarded  to  him,  so  that  his 
honourable  hiding-place  might  not  be  discovered.  He 
1 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke.’ 


1685.  1 
2Et.  52.  J 


IN  HIDING  AT  AMSTERDAM. 


23 


entrusted  to  me  his  will  and  other  valuables,  and  gave  me 
in  writing  the  names  of  his  nearest  relatives,  in  order  that 
I might  communicate  with  them  if  anything  happened  to 
him.”1  These  extreme  precautions  show  how  great  was 
Locke’s  alarm,  and  perhaps  justify  his  friend  Le  Clerc’s 
assertion  that  “his  temper  was  rather  timorous  than 
courageous.”  Not  unlike  Hobbes  in  some  other  respects, 
he  was  a little  like  him  in  this. 

While  his  friends  in  Amsterdam  were  thus  helping 
Locke  to  hide  for  his  life,  as  he  thought,  his  friends  in 
London  were  working  no  less  heartily  in  his  interests. 
The  most  active  of  these — or  at  any  rate,  through  that 
strange  concurrence  of  accidents  or  plots  which  just  then 
made  a quaker  the  most  influential  courtier  of  the 
catholic  monarch,  the  most  capable — was  William  Penn, 
whom  Locke  had  known  as  a promising  youth  at  Oxford, 
and  had  probably,  then  and  afterwards,  helped  in  unre- 
corded ways.  “ Musidore  ” — that  is,  James  Tyrrell— 
wrote  his  old  friend  David  Thomas  to  him,  at  about  this 
time,  “ tells  me  Will.  Penn  hath  moved  the  king  for 
pardon  for  you,  which  was  as  readily  granted.  I said  if 
you  either  wanted  or  desired  it,  you  would  move  by  your 
friend  here,  and  you  would  write  your  own  sense  of  it.”2 

The  “friend  here,”  to  whom  Thomas  alluded,  was  pro- 
bably the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  who,  either  independently  or 
in  conjunction  with  Penn,  was  also  doing  his  utmost  to 
help  Locke.  “ I have  often  writ  to  you  with  great 


1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Limborch  to  Lady  Masham,  [2 — ] 
13  March,  1704-5. 

2 Lord  King,  p.  159.  Lord  King  assigns  this  note  to  November,  1687 — 
clearly  an  incorrect  date.  Lady  Masham,  in  the  letter  to  Le  Clerc  which 
has  been  so  often  quoted,  confirms  the  report  of  Penn’s  having  procured  the 
offer  of  a pardon  for  Locke,  but  assigns  it  to  the  beginning  of  James’s 
reign. 


24 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IT 


satisfaction  in  hopes  of  an  answer,”  he  said  in  a jubilant 
letter.  “You  will  easily  conclude,  therefore,  with  how 
much  more  I write  now,  since  it  will  he  the  occasion  of 
enjoying  your  company  here  in  England.  I need  not  tell 
you  that  I have  omitted  no  opportunity  of  contradicting 
all  false  reports  to  the  king,  and,  as  in  so  good  a cause 
none  can  but  succeed,  I have  so  satisfied  the  king  that 
he  has  assured  me  he  will  never  believe  any  ill  reports  of 
you.  He  hid  me  write  to  you  to  come  over.  I told  him 
I would  then  bring  you  to  kiss  his  hand,  and  he  was  fully 
satisfied  I should.  Pray,  for  my  sake,  let  me  see  you 
before  the  summer  be  over.  I believe  you  will  not  mis- 
trust me ; I am  sure  none  can  the  king’s  word.  You 
having  so  many  friends,  lest  you  should  mistake  who  I 
am,  I must  subscribe  myself,  your  friend  Pembroke.”1 
But  Locke  did  distrust  King  James’s  word ; and  did 
not  at  all  care  about  kissing  the  king’s  hand.  Irksome 
as  he  found  his  close  hiding  in  Dr.  Yeen’s  house,  more- 
over, he  preferred  it  to  such  life  in  England  as  would 
then  be  possible  to  him,  especially  on  the  disgraceful 
terms  implied  in  his  proffered  pardon.  He  was  doubtless 
grateful  for  the  well-meant  efforts  of  his  friends  on  his 
behalf;  but  he  proudly  answered  that  “he  had  no  occasion 
for  a pardon,  having  been  guilty  of  no  crime.”2 

Instead  of  going  to  England  he  went,  about  the 
middle  of  September,  to  Cleve,  where  it  will  be  remem- 
bered he  had  spent  a few  weeks  more  than  twenty  years 
before,  when  he  had  gone  thither  as  secretary  to  Sir 
Walter  Yane.  “Though  Mr.  Locke  experienced  in  Dr. 
Yeen’s  house  all  the  services  that  friendship  and  good 

1 Lord  King,  p.  158  ; Pembroke  to  Locke,  20  Aug.,  1G85. 

2 Le  Clerc. 


^Et853.1  JAMES  THE  second’s  “ PARDON  ” REFUSED.  25 

nature  could  render,”  wrote  Limborcli,  “the  confinement 
was  painful  to  him,  the  access  of  only  two  or  three  friends 
being  allowed  to  him.  Solitude  wearied  him,  and  he 
wished  to  breathe  a freer  air.  A certain  gentleman,  long 
known  to  Yeen  and  myself,  was  in  the  habit  of  corre- 
sponding with  Mrs.  Hubner,  a well-known  lady,  who 
concerned  herself  much  with  public  affairs,  and,  while 
Chancellor  Dankel  flourished,  was  held  in  high  estimation. 
He,  after  many  letters  had  passed  to  and  fro  between 
them,  persuaded  Dr.  Yeen  that  Mr.  Locke  would  find  a 
safe  and  comfortable  asylum  at  Cleve  if  he  went  thither. 
I and  Dr.  Guenellon  objected  to  his  going,  for  I knew 
this  gentleman  to  he  a braggart,  fond  of  making  great 
promises  which  often  came  to  nothing ; but  through  Yeen 
he  persuaded  Mr.  Locke  to  leave  us,  his  friends,  and  go 
into  that  unknown  place  in  order  that  he  might  enjoy 
more  liberty.  Yeen  and  Guenellon  and  I conducted  him 
to  the  boat  which  goes  from  here  to  Utrecht,  and  hardly 
could  we  bear  to  part  from  him.  But  before  many  weeks 
were  over  he  found  that  the  promises  of  his  adviser  were 
as  vain  as  we  had  anticipated.  So  he  came  back  to  his 
old  hiding-place  in  Amsterdam,  and,  that  there  might  be 
the  less  chance  of  his  being  discovered,  passed  by  the 
name  of  Dr.  Yan  der  Linden.”1  That  disguise  Locke 
seems  to  have  soon  thrown  off,  on  finding  that  there  was 
no  further  danger  of  his  arrest. 

Though  he  declined  to  derive  from  it  any  other  advan- 
tage than  freedom  in  walking  about  the  streets  of  Amster- 
dam and  enjoying  the  society  of  more  friends  than  could 
be  admitted  into  Dr.  Yeen’s  little  parlour,  the  “pardon  ” 
that  he  refused  to  sue  for  or  to  accept  was  granted  to 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Limborch  to  Lady  Maskam,  [26 
March — ] 6 April,  1706. 


26 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


him.1  When,  in  May,  1686,  just  a year  after  Skelton’s 
demand  for  the  surrender  of  Monmouth’s  supposed  accom- 
plices, proclamation  was  made  hy  the  states-general  for 
the  arrest  of  certain  persons  who  had  assisted  in  his 
rebellion,  hut  who  were  out  of  reach  of  both  Colonel 
Kirke  and  Judge  Jeffreys,  Locke’s  name  was  not  included 
in  the  list.2 


In  the  summer-time  of  1685,  after  Limhorch  had  con- 
ducted Locke  from  his  lodgings  at  Utrecht  to  find  a 
hiding-place  in  Dr.  Yeen’s  house  in  Amsterdam,  the 
friendship  of  these  two  men  ripened  into  a maturity  that 
decayed  only  with  death. 

Yeen  lived  somewhere  near  the  university,  in  the 
Hoog-straat,  Limhorch  in  the  seminary  adjoining  the 
remonstrants’  church  in  the  Keisers-gracht ; and,  while 
Limhorch  passed  from  the  one  house  to  the  other  very 
often  to  relieve  his  friend’s  solitude  by  welcome  talk  on 
philosophy  and  theology,  Locke  sometimes  ventured  out 
after  dark  to  take  counsel  with  him  at  his  own  home. 
He  seems,  for  safety’s  sake,  to  have  generally  given  notice 

1 “ I thought  it  might  not  he  unpleasing  to  your  lordship,”  Skelton  wrote 
to  the  Lord  President  on  the  20th  of  April,  1686,  “ to  know  that,  upon  his 
majesty’s  inclining  to  pardon  young  Burnardiston  and  Joshua  Locke,  both 
now  at  Amsterdam,  ....  several  others  of  the  same  party  have  from 
thence  taken  encouragement  to  hope  for  the  like  mercy,  and  are  earnestly 
solicitous  for  it.” — Foreign  State  Papers,  Holland,  in  the  Public  Record 
Office.  We  may  reasonably  assume  that  Skelton  wrote  Joshua  in  mistake 
for  John.  I have  sought  in  vain  for  any  trace  of  a Joshua  Locke  in  Amster- 
dam at  this  time. 

2 I am  indebted  to  Mr.  Frederic  Muller,  the  great  bookseller  of  Amster- 
dam, for  an  original  copy  of  this  proclamation.  Though  Locke’s  name  is 
not  in  it,  it  somewhat  strangely  mentions  some  of  his  Somersetshire  neigh- 
bours ; among  others  Marv  Bath  and  George  Lipp,  of  Wrington. 


1695.  1 
iEt.  53.  J 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  LIMBORCH. 


27 


of  his  approach.  “ I always  have  so  many  proofs  of  your 
kindness  and  friendship,”  he  wrote  on  a Monday  after- 
noon, “ and  I lean  so  much  on  your  wisdom  and  expe- 
rience, that  I venture  to  seek  fresh  favours  from  you.  I 
am  very  anxious  to  meet  you,  having  a great  many  things 
to  say.  If  it  is  convenient  to  you  that  I should  visit 
you  this  evening,  I will  come  to  your  house  after  nine 
o’clock.”  1 

From  the  time  when  he  left  Amsterdam  to  make  his 
short  sojourn  in  Cleve,  Locke  corresponded  steadily  and 
frequently  with  Limborch,  whenever  they  had  not  the 
greater  advantage  of  personal  intercourse;  and  this  corre- 
spondence throws  much  light  on  Locke’s  general  history, 
and  especially  on  his  theological  opinions,  during  the 
remaining  years  of  his  life.2 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  Die  Lunae. 

2 Forty-three  letters  from  Locke  to  Limborch,  from  copies  supplied  by 
the  latter  to  Sir  Peter  King,  and  twenty-seven  from  Limborch  to  Locke, 
were  printed  in  ‘ Some  Familiar  Letters  between  Mr.  Locke  and  several  of 
his  Friends’  (1708).  One  from  Locke  to  Limborch  and  ten  from  Limborch 
to  Locke  were  printed  by  Lord  King  in  the  second  edition  of  his  ‘ Life  and 
Correspondence  of  Locke  ’ (1830).  I have  found  in  the  Remonstrants’ 
Library  at  Amsterdam  thirty-four  other  letters  from  Locke,  as  well  as  Lim 
borch’s  own  copies  of  all  his  letters.  From  the  originals,  in  the  same 
library,  I have  also  been  able  to  supply  numerous  postscripts  and  other 
passages  which  Limborch  had  omitted  from  his  transcripts  of  Locke’s 
letters,  apparently  because  he  thought  them  too  personal  and  trivial  to 
interest  the  general  public.  They  are  of  great  value  now,  however,  as 
illustrating  Locke’s  biography.  Nearly  all  these  letters  are  written  in  Latin; 
a few  in  French.  Translations  of  forty-four  of  the  letters,  including  some 
of  Limborch’s,  were  made  by  Mr.  Rutt,  the  biographer  of  Priestly,  and 
published  by  him  in  the  ‘ Monthly  Repository,’  vols.  xiii.  and  xiv.  (1818 
and  1819).  Of  these  translations  I have  occasionally  availed  myself ; but 
I have  endeavoured  in  my  own  renderings,  while  retaining  the  sense  of  the 
originals,  to  avoid  as  far  as  possible  the  pedantic  tone  inevitable  in  a very 
literal  translation  of  letters  written  in  Latin. 


28 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


From  the  first  of  the  long  series,  it  appears  that  he 
arrived  in  Cleve  on  the  7th  or  8th  of  September,  and 
at  once  addressed  to  Guenellon  a letter  which  he  feared 
had  not  reached  its  destination.  “ I should  especially 
regret  its  miscarriage,”  he  wrote  two  days  afterwards  to 
Limhorcli,  “as  in  that  case  I might  seem  to  disregard  or 
undervalue  the  numberless  kindnesses  which  you  all  have 
shown  to  me,  and  in  the  space  of  a few  hours  to  have 
forgotten  your  favours,  the  remembrance  of  which,  I assure 
you,  time  can  never  efface.  I cannot  find  words  in  which 
to  give  sufficient  thanks  for  the  benefits  I have  received 
from  Dr.  Yeen  and  his  excellent  wife : please  express 
them  for  me  in  your  choicest  phrases.  I think  I shall 
stay  long  here,  for  my  health’s  sake.  The  pleasantness 
of  the  place,  and  my  love  of  quiet,  if  not  idleness,  as  well 
as  my  dislike  to  the  worry  of  travelling,  detain  me.  I 
enjoy  my  daily  walks  immensely,  though  I should  enjoy 
them  very  much  more  if  some  of  you  were  companions  of 
my  rambles.”  The  letter  was  signed  “ Lamy,”  a pseudo- 
nym which  Locke  here  adopted  for  his  greater  security. 
“ Please  address  your  letter  tw  Lamy,”  he  said  in  a post- 
script, “ and  send  it  in  an  outside  envelope  to  Mr.  Meyer, 
secretary  to  his  highness  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg.”  1 

While  at  Cleve,  Locke  worked  on  at  his  ‘ Essay  con- 
cerning Human  Understanding.’  “I  wish,”  he  said  in 
his  next  letter  to  Limborch,  “ that  the  book  I am  pre- 
paring were  in  such  a language  that  you  might  correct  its 
faults  ; you  would  find  plenty  of  matter  to  criticise.”  2 

In  the  same  letter  Locke  courteously  reported  that  he 

1 MSS.  in  the  Eemonstrants'  Library;  Lamy  to  Limborch,  [18 — ] 28 
Sept.,  1685,— partly  printed  in  ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  298. 

2 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  302;  Locke  to  Limborch,  [26  Sept.—]  6 Oct., 
1685. 


1685.  1 

jEt.  53.  j 


FKIENDSHIP  WITH  LIMBOKCH. 


29 


had  been  vainly  seeking  matter  to  criticise  in  a work  lately 
written  by  Limborcb.  This  work,  published  in  1687  with 
the  title  ‘Arnica  Collatiode  Veritate  Religionis  Cbristianae 
cum  Erudito  Judaeo,’  was  written  in  or  before  1684,  and 
detailed  the  arguments  that  Limborcb  bad  used  in  dis- 
comfiting a Spanish  Jew,  named  Balthasar  Orobio,  who, 
after  professing  Catholicism  at  Toulouse  in  order  to  escape 
the  persecution  be  bad  previously  met  with,  settled  in 
Amsterdam,  and  returned  to  bis  former  faith.  Locke 
took  great  interest  in  it,  and  it  seems  to  have  done  much 
to  strengthen  the  friendship  that  arose  between  him 
and  Limborcb.  “ When  Mr.  Locke  beard  from  Dr. 
Guenellon,”  wrote  Limborcb  concerning  their  early  ac- 
quaintance, “ that  I bad  the  record  of  a conference  held 
by  me  with  a learned  Jew  concerning  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, be  borrowed  the  manuscript  from  me,  and,  having 
read  it  carefully,  gave  me  bis  wise  and  ingenious  com- 
ments upon  it.”  1 Locke,  while  be  was  in  Utrecht,  bor- 
rowed the  manuscript  again  ; 2 and  be  took  it  to  Cleve  to 
revise  it  for  publication,  but  be  now  complained  that  be 
could  find  hardly  anything  to  correct  in  it.  “ I have 
never,”  be  said,  “found  opinions  more  clearly  set  forth, 
more  completely  built  up  with  rational  arguments, 
more  entirely  free  from  party  prejudices,  and  in  every 
respect  more  in  harmony  with  truth.  Though  I have 
applied  myself  to  it  with  critical  severity,  I can  find 
nothing  of  importance  on  which  to  fasten  the  critic’s 
tooth.  Do  not  blame  me  for  a busybody,  therefore,  if  I 
have  been  forced  to  look  out  for  small  blemishes.”  3 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Limb  orch  to  Lady  Masbam,  [13 — ] 
24  March,  1704-5. 

2 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Limborcb,  [29  Jan. — ] 8 Feb.,  1684-5. 

3 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  801 ; Locke  to  Limborcb,  [26  Sept. — ] 6 Oct.,  1685. 


30 


EESIPENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


Locke’s  reference  in  tlie  same  letter  to  another  hook  is 
of  some  value  in  itself  as  an  evidence  of  his  theological 
temper,  and  is  also  interesting  as  introducing  to  us  a man 
with  whom  he  afterwards  had  much  to  do. 

This  man  was  Jean  Le  Clerc,  generally  known  on  the 
continent  as  Clericus.  He  was  born  at  Geneva  in  1657. 
Having  great  natural  abilities,  he  was  carefully  instructed 
in  all  the  classical,  theological,  and  philosophical  learning 
of  the  day,  and  into  all  his  studies  he  put  original  thought. 
Singularly  endowed  with  the  critical  faculty — almost  the 
first  of  modern  critics,  indeed — he  carefully  trained  himself 
for  the  wise  use  of  his  talent  by  mastering  all  the  best 
literature  of  his  day,  and  especially  that  sort  of  literature 
which  grew  out  of  the  varied  influences  of  Descartes  and 
Spinoza.  He  soon  broke  loose  from  Descartes,  but  he 
never  went  as  far  as  Spinoza.  The  halting-place  which 
he  occupied  between  the  two,  and  from  which  he  shrewdly 
criticised  not  only  all  writers  and  teachers,  old  and  new, 
but  also  all  the  religious,  social,  and  political  movements 
of  the  time,  was  about  similar  to  the  halting-place  between 
Descartes  and  Gassendi,  in  which  Locke,  less  as  a critic, 
but  very  much  greater  as  an  original  thinker,  himself 
unconscious  of  his  greatness  or  of  the  extent  of  the  work 
that  he  was  doing,  established  himself  as  the  wisest 
teacher  of  his  age.  There  was  a difference  of  twenty- 
five  years  between  the  ages  of  the  two  men ; but  Le 
Clerc’s  quicker  if  less  profound  wit  made  him  the  con- 
temporary of  Locke,  and  even  in  some  small  measure  his 
guide. 

Le  Clerc  first  showed  his  peculiar  strength  of  mind  in 
the  ‘ Liberii  de  Sancto  Amore  Epistolae  Theologicae  in 
quibus  varii  Scholasticorum  Errores  castigantur,’  which 
he  produced  in  1679  or  1680.  In  1682,  finding  himself  ill 


1685.  i 
Mt.  53.. 


JEAN  LE  CLERC. 


31 


at  ease  in  Geneva,  or  among  the  protestants  of  France, 
he  visited  London.  “ I sought  an  asylum,”  he  said,  “ and 
thought  that  possibly  I might  find  one  in  England.  I 
preached  sometimes  at  the  Walloon  church,  and  during 
six  months  at  the  Savoy ; but  these  gentlemen  cared  only 
for  those  grand  geniuses  who  lose  themselves  in  the  clouds, 
and  were  not  to  be  affected  by  the  simple  teaching  that  I 
offered  them.  They  liked  much  better  to  hear  from  the 
pulpit,  eloquently  set  forth  in  scholastic  terms,  such 
absurdities  as  serious  persons  never  think  of  introducing 
into  their  conversation,  than  to  listen  to  a preacher  who 
could  say  nothing  soothing  to  sinners  who  had  not  re- 
nounced their  sins.”  1 So  he  went  to  Holland  a few 
months  before  Locke  ; and  a few  months  after,  in  1684, 
entered  on  more  congenial  work  as  professor  of  belles 
lettres,  philosophy,  and  Hebrew  in  the  remonstrants’ 
seminary  at  Amsterdam. 

It  is  somewhat  strange  that  Locke  should  have  known 
nothing  of  Le  Clerc  while  he  was  in  London,  or  while  they 
were  near  neighbours  in  Amsterdam.  Their  personal 
acquaintance  did  not  begin  before  1686. 

Father  Simon,  an  oratorian  priest,  styling  himself  the 
prior  of  Bolleville,  had  some  two  years  before  written 
an  ‘ Histoire  Critique  du  Yieux  Testament,’  in  which  au- 
thority was  found  for  all  the  dogmatic  theology  of  the 
church  of  Rome.  Le  Clerc  answered  it  in  1685,  in  a very 
able  work,  entitled  ‘ Sentiments  de  Quelques  Theologiens 
de  Hollande  sur  l’Histoire  Critique  du  Yieux  Testament,’ 
the  form  of  which  allowed  him  to  put  forward  not  only 

1 Yan  der  Hoeven,  ‘ De  Joanne  Clerico  ’ (Amsterdam,  1843),  p.  36.  This 
“ dissertation,”  which  gives  the  best  account  of  Le  Clerc  that  I know  of,  is 
bound  up  in  the  same  volume,  but  separately  paged,  with  the  ‘ De  Philippo 
a Limboreh  ’ which  is  referred  to  in  a previous  note. 


32 


KESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


his  own  very  liberal  views,  but  also  the  opinions  of  the 
Spinozists  and  others  more  heretical  than  himself.  Locke 
read  the  book  while  he  was  at  Cleve,  and  seems  to  have 
been  informed  by  Limborch  that  Le  Clerc  had  inten- 
tionally imported  into  it  certain  rival  and  contradictory 
arguments,  in  order  to  disparage  the  excessive  value  often 
attached  to  theological  arguments  in  general.  “ I can 
readily  believe  what  you  tell  me  about  the  critic  of  the 
critic,”  he  wrote  in  the  letter  from  which  we  have  made 
a long  digression.  “ I no  sooner  reached  that  part  of  the 
eleventh  letter1  than  I seemed  to  hear  such  a violent 
clamour  as  might  imply  that  religion  itself  was  being 
destroyed  ; knowing  as  I do  that  this  is  the  way  of  people, 
who,  in  proportion  to  their  inability  to  rebut  any  hetero- 
doxy, or  to  say  anything  in  defence  of  God,  pour  out 
their  noisy  reproaches  and  calumnies.  At  the  same  time, 
though  I admit  that  the  argument  ” — against  the  verbal 
and  plenary  inspiration  of  the  Bible — “is  modestly  put 
forward  and  cautiously  worked  out,  I think  it  is  one  that 
cannot  be  too  carefully  discussed.  If  everything  in  the 
sacred  books  is  to  be  indiscriminately  adopted  by  us  as 
divinely  inspired,  great  opportunity  will  be  given  to  philo- 
sophers for  doubting  our  faith  and  sincerity.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  any  part  is  to  be  regarded  as  of  merely  human 
composition,  what  becomes  of  the  divine  authority  of  the 
Scriptures,  without  which  the  Christian  religion  falls 
to  the  ground  ? What  is  to  be  the  criterion  ? what  the 
rule  ? In  handling  this  question — a fundamental  one,  if 
there  be  any  such — the  utmost  caution,  prudence,  and 
modesty  ought  to  be  used,  especially  by  one  to  whom,  as 

1 The  passages  referred  to  by  Locke  were  included  in  the  parts  of  Le 
Clerc’s  work  translated  into  English,  and  published  in  1690,  as  ‘ Five  Letters 
concerning  the  Inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.’ 


it853.]  doubts  as  to  the  infallibility  OF  THE  BIBLE.  33 

I suppose,  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  and  the  theolo- 
gians are  not  very  friendly.” 

“ I,”  he  continued,  “ who  endeavour  everywhere  to 
seek  truth  alone,  or  as  much  as  I can  find  of  it,  care  not 
at  all  whether  it  comes  to  me  from  heretics  or  the  ortho- 
dox ; but  I confess  that,  while  it  contains  much  which  I 
cannot  answer,  there  are  some  things  in  this  work  that  do 
not  satisfy  me.  About  these  I should  like,  if  you  think 
well,  to  get  the  author’s  answer.  Concerning  the  others 
I shall  ask  your  opinion.”  To  make  clear  the  two  points 
that  Locke  submitted  to  Le  Clerc  would  require  more 
space, than  the  subject  seems  here  to  demand,  especially 
as  we  have  not  Le  Clerc’s  reply.  It  is  more  important  to 
note  Locke’s  admission  of  his  own  sceptical  mood,  while 
gently  complaining  of  the  young  author’s  too  great  en- 
couragement of  scepticism.  “As  there  are  so  many 
passages  in  this  book  which  call  in  question  the  infalli- 
bility and  entire  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  which  I am 
quite  unable  to  controvert,”  he  said  to  Limborch,  “Ido 
hope  you  will  not  refuse  to  give  me  your  opinion  on  the 
subject.  I have  met  with  so  many  things  in  the  canonical 
books,  long  before  reading  this  treatise,  which  have  filled 
me  with  doubt  and  anxiety,  that  the  kindest  thing  you 
could  do  would  be  to  rid  me  of  my  uncertainty.”  1 

Kind  as  Limborch  was,  he  could  not  comply  with  that 
request.  The  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding  ’ 
had  not  then  begun  to  ferment  in  the  minds  of  men  and 
prepare  the  world  for  the  supremacy  of  open-eyed  reason 
over  purblind  faith.  The  fermentation  was  then  only 
partially  working  even  in  the  mind  of  the  man  who  was 
writing  the  essay.  Limborch,  albeit  a theologian,  was 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  pp.  302,  304  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [26  Sept. — ] 
6 Oct.,  1685. 

Vol.  II.— 3 


34 


KESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


wise  enough  to  see  that  this  fermentation  neither  should 
nor  could  be  stayed.  His  answer  has  not  been  pre- 
served ; but  all  he  could  say  in  it  would  be  that  he  too 
was  in  uncertainty  from  which  he  saw  no  relief. 

Whatever  doubts  Locke  may  have  had  about  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  Bible,  he  had  no  doubts  as  to  the  duty  of 
Christians  towards  one  another,  and  towards  outsiders,  in 
allowing  perfect  freedom  of  religious  opinion.  Having 
returned,  after  his  few  weeks’  stay  in  Cleve,  to  Amsterdam, 
and  there  again  found  a hiding-place  in  Dr.  Veen’s  house, 
he  occupied  part  of  the  ensuing  winter  in  writing  to 
Limborch  a long  letter,  destined  to  become  very  famous, 
“ about  the  mutual  toleration  of  Christians  in  their  different 
professions  of  religion.”1 

We  have  seen  how,  in  1667,  Locke  had  written  a very 
remarkable  ‘ Essay  concerning  Toleration,’  designed  espe- 
cially to  show  that  it  is  incumbent  on  the  state  to 
allow,  and  to  secure  for  its  subjects,  entire  freedom  of 
opinion  on  religious  matters,  and  also  that  it  can  have 
no  proper  control  over  religious  worship  except  so  far  as  to 
see  that  the  action  of  anyone  sect  does  not  interfere  with 
the  rights  of  any  other  sect,  and  is  not  opposed  to  the 
temporal  well-being  of  the  whole  community.  It  is  not 
unlikely  that,  while  he  was  hiding  in  Dr.  Veen’s  house, 
he  told  Limborch  of  this  treatise,  and  was  persuaded 
by  him  to  re-write  his  thoughts  in  such  a form  as  would 
be  useful  to  them,  even  if  the  document  was  not  to  be 


1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Limborch  to  Lady  Masham,  [13 — ] 
24  March,  1704-5.  “ Ilia  hyeme,”  said  Limborch,  “ in  aedibus  D.  Venii,  me 
solo  conscio,  eximiam  illam  de  tolerantia  epistolam  ad  me  scripsit.”  The 
letter,  published  in  Latin  in  1689,  was  almost  immediately  afterwards 
translated  into  English,  with  Locke’s  approval,  and  under  his  correction,  by 
William  Popple.  In  my  extracts  I have  made  use  of  Popple’s  translation. 


1 EPISTOLA  DE  TOLERANTIA.’ 


85 


1685.  "I 
.fit.  53.  J 

shown  to  any  one  else.  That,  at  any  rate,  was  what 
Locke  did.  In  a conversational,  but  at  the  same  time 
orderly  way,  he  reproduced  his  old  arguments,  with  this 
important  difference — that,  whereas  he  had  eighteen  years 
before  considered  primarily,  but  not  exclusively,  the  duties 
of  governments  in  general,  and  of  the  English  govern- 
ment in  particular,  towards  Christians  of  various  denomi- 
nations, he  now  considered  primarily,  hut  not  exclusively, 
the  duties  of  Christians  of  various  denominations  in  all 
countries  towards  one  another.  The  grand  principle 
asserted  by  Locke  was  the  same  on  both  occasions.  In 
1685  he  probably  agreed  entirely  with  what  he  had  written 
in  1667.  He  here  only  varied  the  expression  of  his 
views  so  as  to  make  their  presentment  most  suitable  to 
the  new  occasion.  The  letter  which  he  now  addressed 
to  the  chief  pastor  of  the  remonstrants  was  indeed  a far 
worthier  remonstrance  against  Christian  or  un-Christian 
intolerance  than  Limborch,  or  Episcopius,  or  Arminius 
could  have  penned — an  epistle  to  the  churches  fit  to  he 
bound  up  with  those  of  Paul — a better  encyclical  than 
has  been  issued  by  any  of  the  successors  of  Peter. 

“The  mutual  toleration  of  Christians,”  said  Locke,  in  this  letter,  “I 
esteem  to  be  the  chief  characteristical  mark  of  the  true  church.  For  what- 
soever some  people  boast  of  the  antiquity  of  places  and  names,  or  of  the 
pomp  of  their  outward  worship — others,  of  the  reformation  of  their  disci- 
pline— all,  of  the  orthodoxy  of  their  faith,  for  every  one  is  orthodox  to 
himself — these  things  and  all  others  of  this  nature  are  much  rather  marks 
of  men  striving  for  power  and  empire  over  one  another  than  of  the  church 
of  Christ.  Let  any  one  have  ever  so  true  a claim  to  all  these  things,  yet,  if 
he  be  destitute  of  charity,  meekness,  and  good-will  in  general  towards  all 
mankind,  even  to  those  that  are  not  Christians,  he  is  certainly  yet  short  of 
being  a true  Christian  himself.”  “ If  the  gospel  and  the  apostles  may  be 
credited,  no  man  can  be  a Christian  without  charity  and  without  that  faith 
which  works,  not  by  force,  but  by  love.  Now  I appeal  to  the  consciences  of 
those  that  persecute,  torment,  destroy,  and  kill  other  men  upon  pretence  of 


36 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


religion,  whether  they  do  it  out  of  friendship  or  kindness  towards  them  or 
no,  and  I shall  then  indeed,  but  not  till  then,  believe  they  do  so,  when  I 
shall  see  those  fiery  zealots  correcting  in  the  same  manner  their  friends  and 
familiar  acquaintance  for  the  manifest  sins  they  commit  against  the  precepts 
of  the  gospel — when  I shall  see  them  persecute  with  fire  and  sword  the 
members  of  their  own  communion  that  are  tainted  with  enormous  vices,  and 
without  amendment  are  in  danger  of  eternal  perdition — and  when  I shall  see 
them  thus  express  their  love  and  desire  of  the  salvation  of  their  souls  by  the 
infliction  of  torments  and  exercise  of  all  manner  of  cruelties.  For,  if  it  be 
out  of  a principle  of  charity,  as  they  pretend,  and  love  to  men’s  souls,  that 
they  deprive  them  of  their  estates,  maim  them  with  corporal  punishments, 
starve  and  torment  them  in  noisome  prisons,  and  in  the  end  take  away  their 
lives  ; I say,  if  all  this  be  done  merely  to  make  men  Christians  and  procure 
their  salvation,  why  then  do  they  suffer  whoredom,  fraud,  malice,  and  such 
like  enormities,  which  according  to  the  apostle  manifestly  relish  of  heathenish 
corruption,  to  predominate  so  much  and  abound  amongst  their  flocks  and 
people  ? These,  and  such  like  things,  are  certainly  more  contrary  to  the 
glory  of  God,  to  the  purity  of  the  church,  and  to  the  salvation  of  souls,  than 
any  conscientious  dissent  from  ecclesiastical  decision,  or  separation  from 
public  worship,  whilst  accompanied  with  innocency  of  life.’' 

Locke  had  fair  reason  for  his  scorn  when,  writing  in  his  hiding-place  in 
Amsterdam,  he  thought  of  all  the  tyrannical  hypocrisy  and  vicious  Chris- 
tianity, so  called,  that  he  had  left  behind  him  in  Charles  the  Second’s 
England,  and  of  all  the  greater  evils  that  James  the  Second  and  his  advisers 
would  introduce,  if  they  dared.  “ That  any  man  should  think  fit  to  cause 
another  man,  whose  salvation  he  heartily  desires,  to  expire  in  torments,  and 
that  even  in  an  unconverted  estate,  would,  I confess,  seem  very  strange  to 
me,  and,  I think,  to  any  other  also.  But  nobody  surely  will  ever  believe 
that  such  a carriage  can  proceed  from  charity,  love,  or  good-will.  If  any 
one  maintain  that  men  ought  to  be  compelled  by  fire  and  sword  to  profess 
certain  doctrines  and  conform  to  this  or  that  exterior  worship,  without  any 
regard  had  unto  their  morals,  if  any  one  endeavour  to  convert  those  that  are 
erroneous  unto  the  faith  by  forcing  them  to  profess  things  that  they  do  not 
believe,  and  allowing  them  to  practise  things  that  the  gospel  does  not  permit, 
it  cannot  be  doubted,  indeed,  that  such  a one  is  desirous  to  have  a numerous 
assembly  joined  in  the  same  profession  with  himself ; but  that  he  principally 
intends  by  those  means  to  compose  a truly  Christian  church  is  altogether 
incredible.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  those  who  do  not  really  contend 
for  the  advancement  of  the  true  religion  and  of  the  church  of  Christ  make 


37 


1{$5.  "I 
.ffit.  53.  J 


THE  HYPOCRISY  OF  RELIGIOUS  TYRANNY. 


use  of  arms  that  do  not  belong  to  the  Christian  warfare  ; but  if,  like  the 
captain  of  our  salvation,  they  sincerely  desired  the  good  of  souls,  they  would 
tread  in  the  steps  and  follow  the  perfect  example  of  that  prince  of  peace  who 
sent  out  his  soldiers  to  the  subduing  of  nations  and  gathering  them  into  his 
church,  not  armed  with  the  sword  or  other  instruments  of  force,  but  pre- 
pared with  the  gospel  of  peace  and  with  the  exemplary  holiness  of  their 
conversation.  This  was  his  method,  though,  if  infidels  were  to  be  converted 
by  force,  if  those  that  are  either  blind  or  obstinate  were  to  be  drawn  off  from 
their  errors  by  armed  soldiers,  we  know  very  well  that  it  was  much  more 
easy  for  him  to  do  it  with  armies  of  heavenly  legions  than  for  any  son  of  the 
church,  how  potent  soever,  with  all  his  dragoons.” 

After  that  indignant  preface  to  his  argument,  Locke  proceeded  to  point 
out  the  distinction  between  civil  and  religious  government ; to  show  that 
the  former  is  competent  only  to  procure  and  protect  the  civil  interests  of 
men — that  is,  “ life,  liberty,  health  and  indolency  of  body,  and  the  possession 
of  outward  things,  such  as  money,  lands,  houses,  furniture  and  the  like ; ” 
and  to  urge  that  the  latter  is  proper  only  to  a church — that  is,  to  “ a volun- 
tary society  of  men,  joining  themselves  together  of  their  own  accord,  in 
order  to  the  public  worshipping  of  God  in  such  a manner  as  they  may  judge 
acceptable  to  him  and  effectual  to  the  salvation  of  their  souls.”  His  argu- 
ments as  to  the  incompetence  of  the  state,  or  civil  government,  to  interfere 
with  religion,  except  when  religion  interferes  with  civil  rights,  were  repro- 
duced, in  briefer  form,  from  the  old  essay.  The  rest  was  new,  and  there 
was  certainly  a good  deal  of  novelty,  however  old  and  well-grounded  may 
have  been  its  authority,  in  his  definition  of  a church.1  “ I say,  it  is  a free 
and  voluntary  society.  Nobody  is  born  a member  of  any  church  ; otherwise 
the  religion  of  parents  would  descend  unto  children  by  the  same  right  of 
inheritance  as  their  temporal  estates,  and  every  one  would  hold  his  faith  by 
the  same  tenure  as  he  does  his  lands ; than  which  nothing  can  be  imagined 
more  absurd.  No  man  by  nature  is  bound  unto  any  particular  church  or 
sect,  but  every  one  joins  himself  voluntarily  to  that  society  in  which  he 
believes  he  has  found  that  profession  and  worship  which  is  truly  acceptable 
to  God.  The  hope  of  salvation,  as  it  was  the  only  cause  of  his  entrance 
into  that  communion,  so  it  can  be  the  only  reason  of  his  stay  there;  for,  if 
afterwards  he  discover  anything  either  erroneous  in  the  doctrine  or  incon- 
gruous in  the  worship  of  that  society  to  which  he  has  joined  himself,  why 
should  it  not  he  as  free  for  him  to  go  out  as  it  was  to  enter  ? ” 


1 Note,  in  connection  with  this,  the  extract  from  Locke’s  * Defence  of 
Nonconformity,’  in  pp.  459,460  of  the  last  volume. 


38 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Char  IX 


From  that  very  liberal  ideal  of  a church,  Locke  proceeded  to  urge  that 
— though,  of  course,  no  church  or  any  other  society  can  hold  together  with- 
out laws  and  methods  of  government — the  only  laws  admissible  in  a church 
are  such  as  its  members  themselves  agree  upon,  or  approve  when  offered  to 
them,  and  that  no  methods  of  government  can  be  maintained  without  the 
sanction  of  those  who  conform  to  them.  A church,  at  any  rate,  must  be  a de- 
mocracy. Christ  is  its  only  head,  and  as  Christ  has  laid  down  no  laws  and 
appointed  no  deputies — as  the  only  promise  he  has  made  is  that  “ where- 
soever two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  his  name,  he  will  he  in  the 
midst  of  them” — the  church  must  be  self-governing.  All  men  are  free  to 
worship  God  as  they  think  most  conducive  to  their  present  and  eternal 
well-being ; and  as  many  as  choose  to  unite  in  one  body  or  church  must 
agree  upon  harmonious  methods  of  pursuing  their  common  ends.  But  they 
have  no  warrant  at  all  for  keeping  any  one  within  their  church  against  his 
will,  or  for  injuring  any  one  who  does  not  choose  to  belong  to  it.  Accord- 
ingly, Locke  laid  down  these  two  laws : first,  that  “ no  church  is  bound  by 
the  duty  of  toleration  to  retain  any  such  person  in  her  bosom  as  after  ad- 
monition continues  obstinately  to  offend  against  the  laws  of  the  society ; ” 
second,  that  “ no  person  has  any  right  in  any  manner  to  prejudice  another 
person  in  his  civil  enjoyments,  because  he  is  of  another  church  or  religion.” 
“Let  us  suppose  two  churches,  one  of  Arminians,  the  other  of  Calvinists, 
residing  in  the  city  of  Constantinople,”  he  said.  “ Will  any  one  say  that 
either  of  these  churches  has  right  to  deprive  the  members  of  the  other  of 
their  estates  and  liberty,  as  we  see  practised  elsewhere,  because  of  their 
differing  from  it  in  some  doctrines  or  ceremonies,  while  the  Turks  in  the 
meanwhile  silently  stand  by,  and  laugh  to  see  with  what  inhuman  cruelty 
Christians  thus  rage  against  Christians  ? But  if  one  of  these  churches  hath 
this  power  of  treating  the  other  ill,  I ask  which  of  them  it  is  to  whom  the 
power  belongs,  and  by  what  right  ? It  will  be  answered,  undoubtedly, 
that  it  is  the  orthodox  church  which  has  the  right  of  authority  over  the 
erroneous  or  heretical.  This  is,  in  great  and  specious  words,  just  to  say 
nothing  at  all.  For  every  church  is  orthodox  to  itself,  to  others  erroneous 
or  heretical.  Whatsoever  any  church  believes,  it  believes  to  be  true,  and 
the  contrary  thereunto  it  pronounces  to  he  error.  So  that  the  contro- 
versy between  these  churches  about  the  truth  of  their  doctrines  and  the 
purity  of  their  worship  is  on  both  sides  equal,  nor  is  there  any  judge,  either 
at  Constantinople  or  elsewhere  upon  earth,  by  whose  sentence  it  can  be 
determined.  The  decision  of  that  question  belongs  only  to  the  Supreme 
Judge  of  all  men,  to  whom  also  alone  belongs  the  punishment  of  the 


itS53.]  LIMITS  OF  ECCLESIASTICAL  AUTHORITY. 


39 


erroneous.  In  the  meanwhile  let  those  men  consider  how  heinously  they 
sin,  who,  adding  injustice,  if  not  to  their  error,  yet  certainly  to  their  pride, 
do  rashly  and  arrogantly  take  upon  them  to  misuse  the  servants  of  another 
master  who  are  not  at  all  accountable  to  them.  Nay,  further,  if  it  could 
be  manifest  which  of  these  two  dissenting  churches  were  in  the  right  way, 
there  would  not  accrue  thereby  unto  the  orthodox  any  right  of  destroying 
the  other.  For  churches  have  neither  any  jurisdiction  in  worldly  matters, 
nor  are  fire  and  sword  any  proper  instruments  wherewith  to  convince  men’s 
minds  of  error  and  inform  them  of  the  truth.  Let  us  suppose,  neverthe- 
less, that  the  civil  magistrate  inclined  to  favour  one  of  them,  and  to  put  his 
sword  into  their  hands,  that,  by  his  consent,  they  might  chastise  the  dis- 
senters as  they  pleased.  Will  any  man  say  that  any  right  can  be  derived 
unto  a Christian  church  over  its  brethren  from  a Turkish  emperor  ? An 
infidel,  who  has  himself  no  authority  to  punish  Christians  for  the  articles 
of  their  faith,  cannot  confer  such  an  authority  upon  any  society  of  Christians, 
nor  give  unto  them  a right  which  he  has  not  himself.  This  would  be  the 
case  at  Constantinople.  And  the  reason  of  the  thing  is  the  same  in  any 
Christian  kingdom.  The  civil  power  is  the  same  in  every  place ; nor  can 
that  power  in  the  hands  of  a Christian  prince  confer  any  greater  authority 
upon  the  church  than  in  the  hands  of  a heathen ; which  is  to  say,  just  none 
at  all.” 

All  interference  with  people’s  religious  opinions  and  worship  Locke 
regarded  as  altogether  unreasonable  as  well  as  unjustifiable.  “ If  I be 
marching  on  with  my  utmost  vigour,”  he  said,  in  one  quaint  illustration, 
“ in  that  way  which,  according  to  the  sacred  geography,  leads  straight  to 
Jerusalem,  why  am  I beaten  and  ill-used  because  perhaps  I wear  not 
buskins,  because  my  hair  is  not  of  the  right  cut,  because  perhaps  I have 
not  been  dipped  in  the  right  fashion,  because  I eat  flesh  upon  the  road  or 
some  other  food  which  agrees  with  my  stomach,  because  I avoid  certain 
byeways  which  seem  unto  me  to  lead  into  briars  or  precipices,  because 
amongst  the  several  paths  that  are  in  the  same  road  I choose  that  to  walk 
in  which  seems  to  be  the  straightest  and  cleanest,  because  I avoid  to  keep 
company  with  some  travellers  that  are  less  grave  and  others  that  are  more 
sour  than  they  ought  to  be,  or,  in  fine,  because  I follow  a guide  that  either 
is  or  is  not  clothed  in  white  and  crowned  with  a mitre  ? Certainly,  if  we 
consider  right,  we  shall  find  that  for  the  most  part  they  are  such  frivolous 
things  as  these  that,  without  any  prejudice  to  religion  or  the  salvation  of 
souls,  if  not  accompanied  with  superstition  or  hypocrisy,  might  either 
be  observed  or  omitted, — I say  they  are  such  like  things  as  these  which 


40 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


breed  implacable  enmities  amongst  Christian  brethren  who  are  all  agreed  in 
the  substantial  and  fundamental  part  of  religion.” 

Whether  Locke  was  right  in  here  implying  that  there  was  wide  agree- 
ment among  Christians  as  to  the  substantial  and  fundamental  part  of 
religion,  whether  even  he  on  sober  reflection  really  thought  so  himself, 
must  be  doubted.  His  own  canon  was  tolerably  broad.  “ He  that  denies 
not  anything  that  the  holy  scriptures  teach  in  express  words,  nor  makes  a 
separation  upon  occasion  of  anything  that  is  not  manifestly  contained  in 
the  sacred  text,  however  he  may  be  nicknamed  by  any  sect  of  Christians, 
and  declared  by  some  or  all  of  them  to  be  utterly  void  of  Christianity, 
cannot  be  either  a heretic  or  schismatic.” 

Only  a few  illustrations  of  Locke’s  views  as  expressed  in  this  long  letter 
to  Limborch  are  here  given.  To  set  forth  the  whole  argument  would 
require  the  repetition  of  nearly  the  whole  treatise.  The  gist  of  it  all,  how- 
ever, can  be  very  briefly  stated.  Every  one,  urged  Locke,  should  be 
entirely  free  to  worship  God  as  he  likes.  If  he  chooses  to  join  with  others 
in  forming  a church,  or  to  attach  himself  to  one  of  the  churches  already 
formed,  so  much  the  better.  A church,  moreover,  is  as  free  to  excommuni- 
cate those  of  its  members  who  rebel  against  its  rules,  endorsed  by  the 
great  body  of  the  members,  as  it  is  to  accept  candidates  for  admission  ; but  it 
must  not  ask  the  state  to  enforce  its  rules,  nor  must  the  state  allow  it  to  adopt 
any  rules  or  customs  that  are  injurious  to  the  civil  interests  of  society.  The 
state  is  responsible  for  the  peace  and  well-being  of  the  community  in  its 
civil  concerns ; but  it  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  religion,  beyond  seeing 
that  no  individual  or  body,  from  religious  motives,  injures  or  attempts  to 
injure  any  other  individual  or  body,  or  the  nation  at  large. 

That  last  consideration  suggests  the  limits  of  toleration  as  defined  by 
Locke. 

“First,”  he  said,  “no  opinions  contrary  to  human  society,  or  to  those 
moral  rules  which  are  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  civil  society,  are  to 
be  tolerated  by  the  magistrate. 

“ Another  more  secret  evil,  but  more  dangerous  to  the  commonwealth,  is 
when  men  arrogate  to  themselves,  and  to  those  of  their  own  sect,  some 
peculiar  prerogative  covered  over  with  a specious  show  of  deceitful  words, 
but  in  effect  opposite  to  the  civil  right  of  the  community.  Those  who 
attribute  unto  the  faithful,  religious  and  orthodox — that  is,  in  plain  terms, 
unto  themselves — any  peculiar  privilege  or  power  above  other  mortals  in 
civil  concernments,  or  who,  upon  pretence  of  religion,  do  challenge  any 
manner  of  authority  over  such  as  are  not  associated  with  them  in  their 


16S5.  "I 

iEt.  53  J 


OPINIONS  NOT  TO  BE  TOLERATED. 


41 


ecclesiastical  communion, — I say  these  have  no  right  to  be  tolerated  by  the 
magistrate  ; as,  neither,  those  that  will  not  own  and  teach  the  duty  of  tole- 
rating all  men  in  matters  of  mere  religion.  For  what  do  these  signify  but 
that  they  may  and  are  ready  upon  any  occasion  to  seize  the  government  and 
possess  themselves  of  the  estates  and  fortunes  of  their  fellow-subjects,  and 
that  they  only  ask  to  be  tolerated  by  the  magistrate  so  long  until  they  may 
find  themselves  strong  enough  to  effect  it  ? 

“ Again  ; that  church  can  have  no  right  to  be  tolerated  by  the  magistrate 
which  is  constituted  upon  such  a bottom  that  all  those  who  enter  into  it  do 
thereby,  ipso  facto,  deliver  themselves  up  to  the  protection  and  service  of 
another  prince  ; for  by  this  means  the  magistrate  would  give  way  to  the 
settling  of  a foreign  jurisdiction  in  his  own  country,  and  suffer  his  own 
people  to  be  listed,  as  it  were,  for  soldiers  against  his  own  government. 

“ Lastly,  those  are  not  at  all  to  he  tolerated  who  deny  the  being  of  God. 
Promises,  covenants,  and  oaths,  which  are  the  bonds  of  human  society,  can 
have- no  hold  upon  an  atheist.  The  taking  away  of  God,  though  but  even  in 
thought,  dissolves  all.  Besides,  also,  those  that  by  their  atheism  under- 
mine and  destroy  all  religion,  can  have  no  pretence  of  religion  whereupon  to 
challenge  the  privilege  of  a toleration.” 

We  may  regret  that  Locke  should  have  admitted  into 
his  eloquent  plea  for  toleration  such  an  intolerant  doctrine 
as  those  last  sentences  contain.  But,  in  his  excuse, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  atheism  then  in  vogue 
was  of  a very  violent  and  rampant  sort.  He  rightly  held 
that  no  man  has  a claim  to  the  privileges  of  society 
who  does  not  recognise  the  necessity  of  compliance 
with  the  fundamental  law  of  society — the  law  of  good 
faith.  The  low  morality  of  people  in  his  day  unfor- 
tunately led  him  to  think  that  no  one  could  be  expected 
to  keep  faith  with  another  unless  he  believed  in  a God 
who  would  punish  him  if  he  failed  to  do  so.  “ Promises, 
covenants,  and  oaths,”  he  thought,  “can  have  no  hold 
upon  an  atheist.”  An  atheist  cannot  he  a good  citizen. 
Therefore  an  atheist  has  no  claim  to  the  rights  of  citizen- 
ship. 


42 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


Locke,  as  we  have  seen,  read  Jean  le  Clerc’s  ‘ Senti- 
ments de  Quelques  Theologiens  de  Hollande  snr  l’Histoire 
Critique  dn  Vieux  Testament  ’ while  he  was  at  Cleve,  and 
sent  thence,  through  Limb  or  ch,  some  queries  to  its  author. 
In  the  winter  of  1685-6,  soon  after  his  return  to  Amster- 
dam, Limborch  introduced  him  to  Le  Clerc.  This  new 
friendship  had  very  memorable  results. 

Locke  had  been  an  author  for  now  more  than  a quarter 
of  a century.  During  more  than  fifteen  years  he  had,  at 
intervals,  been  working  out  the  arguments  to  be  embodied 
in  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  and  he 
seems  to  have  all  along  intended  to  publish  that  work  if, 
when  completed,  his  modesty  would  allow  him  to  consider 
it  worth  publishing.  He  had  collected  notes  and  materials, 
moreover,  ready  to  be  converted  into  at  least  half  a dozen 
other  works,  if  he  could  bring  himself  to  give  them  to  the 
world.  But  it  may  almost  be  doubted  whether,  but  for 
his  acquaintance  with  Le  Clerc,  he  would  ever  have  given 
anything  to  the  world. 

His  hesitation  in  this  regard  is  illustrated  by  the  history 
of  a small,  though  interesting,  tract,  which  appears  to 
have  been  the  first  thing  actually  published  by  him,  with 
the  exception  of  a few  complimentary  verses  that  have 
already  been  referred  to. 

Soon  after  their  friendship  began  in  Paris  in  1677, 
Locke  had  explained  to  Nicolas  Thoynard  the  very 
ingenious  plan  for  keeping  a common-place  book  which 
he  had  himself  adopted  ever  since  1661.  Thoynard,  fol- 
lowing and  highly  commending  the  plan,  as  did  every 
one  else  who  tried  it,  urged  that  it  should  be  made  public, 
and  Locke  consented ; but  eight  years  passed  before  this 
was  done.  “ Since  you  are  always  of  the  same  o]rinion 
that  my  ‘ Method  of  a Common-Place  Book  ’ would  be 


JEAN  LE  CLEEc’s  INFLUENCE. 


43 


16S6.  "I 
.Et.  53. J 

generally  useful,  and  since  you  still  press  me  to  print  it, 
I shall  obey  you,”  he  wrote  to  Thoynard  from  Amsterdam, 
in  the  autumn  of  1684.  “If  I have  let  so  many  years 
pass  without  doing  this,  it  was  not  because  I grudged  the 
public  such  a small  service” — as  Thoynard  appears  to 
have  complained — “but  because  I was  ashamed  to  have 
it  thought  that  I considered  such  a bagatelle  worth  giving 
out.  But  you  insist  upon  it,  and  that  is  enough.”1  A 
later  letter  shows,  however,  that  he  was  still  in  doubt 
on  the  subject,2  and  it  would  seem  that  the  Method  was 
at  last  only  published  because  Limborch  also  commended 
it  and  Le  Clerc  insisted  upon  issuing  it  in  his  ‘ Biblio- 
theque  Universelle.’ 

The  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle’  lias  a special  interest 
in  connection  with  Locke,  in  addition  to  the  general 
interest  attaching  to  it  as  almost  the  earliest  literary 
magazine  and  review.  Eeally  the  earliest  was  the  ‘Journal 
des  S^avans,’  started  by  Denis  de  Sallo,  in  Paris,  in  1665, 
and  this  had  been  to  some  extent  imitated  in  the  same 
year  by  the  ‘Philosophical  Transactions’  of  our  Boyal 
Society;  hut  the  former  hardly  aimed  at  giving  more 
than  epitomes  of  new  books,  supplemented  by  as  much 
scientific,  academical  and  other  news  and  gossip  as  its 
editors  could  collect,  and  the  latter  only  now  and  then 
added  short  notices  of  books  to  its  copious  reports  of  the 
proceedings  of  the  Eoyal  Society.  Pierre  Bayle,  who 
after  abjuring  Eomanism  had  settled  down  as  professor  of 
philosophy  and  history  at  Eotterdam,  in  1681,  when  he 
was  thirty-four,  must  be  honourably  remembered  as 
having,  among  other  good  work,  produced  the  first 

1 Additional  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  28753  ; Locke  to  Thoy- 
nard, [13—]  23  Nov.,  1684. 

2 Ibid.;  Locke  to  Thoynard,  [14 — ] 24  Feb.,  1684-5. 


44 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


I.Chap.  IX. 


original  and  independent  collection  of  periodical  criticism. 
His  ‘ Nonvelles  de  la  Republique  de  Lettres,’  started  in 
March,  1684,  was  learned,  witty,  and  catholic.  But  in  the 
first  and  third,  if  not  also  in  the  second,  of  those  qualities, 
it  was  surpassed  by  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle,’  which 
Le  Clerc,  aided  by  La  Croze,  began  just  two  years  after- 
wards in  Amsterdam. 

Le  Clerc  was  projecting  it  just  at  the  time  when  Locke 
made  his  acquaintance,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that, 
if  Locke  did  not  take  part  from  the  first  in  the  delibera- 
tions as  to  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the  new  review, 
he  soon  became  one  of  Le  Clerc’ s chief  advisers  on  the 
subject.  He  also  became  one  of  his  coadjutors.  In  the 
number  of  the  ‘Bibliotheque  Universelle’  for  July,  1686, 
was  published  a French  version  of  his  ‘ Method  of  a 
Common-Place  Book,’  with  the  title  ‘ Methode  Nouvelle 
de  dresser  des  Recueils.’1 

“Mr.  Locke,”  said  Le  Clerc,  twenty  years  afterwards, 
“ also  contributed  several  reviews  of  books  to  the 
‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle  ; ’ the  review  of  Mr.  Boyle’s 
De  Specificorum  Bemediorum  cum  Corpusculari  Philo- 

1 ‘Bibliotheque  Universelle/ vol.  ii.  (1686),  pp.  315 — 340.  The  fact  and  the 
mode  of  this  tract’s  publication  are  perhaps  more  important  than  the  con- 
tents of  the  tract  itself;  but  they  maybe  briefly  described,  chiefly  in  Locke’s 
own  words.  “I  take,”  he  said,  “ a paper  book  of  what  size  I please.  I 
divide  the  two  first  pages  that  face  one  another  by  parallel  lines  into  five- 
and-twenty  equal  parts,  every  fifth  line  black,  the  others  red.  I then  cut 
them  perpendicularly  by  other  lines  that  I draw  from  the  top  to  the  bottom 
of  the  page.  I put  about  the  middle  of  each  five  spaces  one  of  the  twenty 
letters  I design  to  make  use  of” — omitting  K,  Y,  and  W,  and  giving  but 
one  space  to  Z and  Q — “ and  a little  forward  in  each  space  the  five  vowels, 
one  below  another,  in  their  natural  order.  This  is  the  index  to  the  whole 
volume,  how  big  soever  it  may  be.”  In  the  volume  itself  one  or  two  pages 
were  to  be  devoted  to  each  set  of  subjects  having  the  same  initial  and 
leading  vowel;  the  subjects  being  carefully  indicated  by  an  appropriate  title. 


it853.]  CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  LE  CLERc’s  ‘ BIBLIOTHEQUE.’  45 

sophia  Concordia,’  for  instance,  which  appeared  in  the 
same  number  of  the  magazine.”1  That  information  is, 
unfortunately,  very  meagre ; but  it  is  clear  and  positive, 
and  it  is  sufficient  to  show  us  that  the  spring  or  summer 
of  1686  was  a turning-point  in  Locke’s  life.  His  contri- 
butions—to — the  1 Bibliotheque  Universello,’  with  one 
exception  which  will  be  noticed  presently,  were  neces- 
sarily slight  and  may  have  been  in  themselves  unim- 
portant. But  they  started  him  on  a new  road.  Hitherto 
we  have  found  that  he  was  pre-eminently  a student. 

Suppose,  for  example,  the  first  portion  of  the  index  to  stand  thus  : — 


a 

4 

e 

8,  54 

A 

i 

16 

0 

14 

u 

20 

Locke  seeking  his  note  on  ars  would  turn  to  A a (the  initial  and  leading 
vowel  being  in  this  case  the  same)  and  be  directed  to  p.  4 for  it.  For 
entries  about  Aer,  Agesilaus,  Acheron,  etc.,  he  would  refer  to  A e and  be 
sent  thence  to  p.  8,  or,  if  p.  8 was  full,  to  p.  54.  In  like  manner,  A i,  16 
would  tell  him  to  look  for  remarks  on  Avis  on  p.  16;  Apostles  being  dis- 
cussed on  p.  14,  he  would  be  referred  thither  by  Ao,  14  ; and  if  he  wanted 
an  observation  about  Alum,  he  would  be  directed  to  it  by  Au,  20.  Locke 
gave  numerous  directions  for  completing  this  scheme. 

1 ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke.’  All  through  the  early  volumes  of  the  ‘ Biblio- 
theque Universelle  ’ are  scattered  reviews  of  English  books,  chiefly  on 
theological  and  scientific  subjects,  evidently  contributed  by  some  one  well 
acquainted  with  our  language  and  literature.  Unless  by  Le  Clerc  himself, 
who  knew  English,  it  is  difficult  to  understand  by  whom  they  could  have 
been  written  unless  by  Locke.  It  is  especially  likely  that  he  was  the  author 
of  articles  which  appeared  in  December,  1686,  on  Boyle’s  ‘De  Ipsa  Natura,’ 
and  in  September,  1687,  on  Sydenham’s  ‘ Schedula  Monitoria.’  But  as  to 
other  articles  I do  not  feel  myself  at  liberty  to  offer  my  guesses. 


46 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


Henceforth  we  shall  find  him  a humble,  painstaking 
student  still,  but  pre-eminently  an  author ; so  zealous 
an  author  that  the  remaining  eighteen  years  of  his  life  did 
not  give  him  time  enough  to  pour  out  for  the  world’s  in- 
struction all  the  old  thoughts  that  he  had  been  accumu- 
lating and  all  the  new  thoughts  that  took  shape  in  a 
mind  which  retained  the  vigour  of  its  youth  long  after 
the  body  had  grown  old. 


The  second  period  of  Locke’s  residence  in  Amsterdam, 
after  his  return  from  Cleve  at  some  time  in  November, 
1685,  covered  nearly  twelve  months,  and  during  the  first 
five  or  six  months  of  it  he  found  it  necessary  to  remain  in 
concealment  in  Dr.  Veen’s  house,  in  or  near  the  Hoog- 
straat,  and  to  pass  among  the  few  persons  who  saw  him 
at  all  as  Mynheer  Van  der  Linden.  The  Hoog-straat 
was  barely  a quarter  of  an  hour’s  walk  from  the  Iveisers- 
graclit,  in  which,  next  door  to  the  Eemonstranten  Kerk, 
Limborch  lived  ; but  as  at  this  time  Locke  rarely  ventured 
out  of  doors,  he  had  occasion  to  write  to  the  friend  who 
continued  to  attend  to  all  necessary  business  for  him  other 
letters  besides  the  afterwards  famous  ‘ Epistola  de  Tole- 
rantia.’ 

“ As  your  affairs  will  prevent  me  from  seeing  you  to- 
day,” he  said  in  December,  “ I send  to  ask  you  not  to 
take  any  trouble  about  procuring  my  money,  and  to  do 
nothing  until  it  is  convenient  to  you ; and  since  I am 
speaking  of  this  matter  I may  say  that  an  opportunity  has 
offered  itself  for  my  relieving  you  from  this  burthen,  of 
which  I am  very  glad,  as  you  have  enough  business  of 
your  own  to  attend  to.  But  we  can  talk  about  this  and 
all  sorts  of  other  things  when  I see  you.  You  know  that 
your  visits  are  always  most  welcome  to  me  ; but  I dare 


iEtfss j RELATIONS  WITH  LIMBORCH.  47 

not  ask  too  much  for  them,  lest  I should  hinder  your 
important  duties.  Only,  remember  how  eagerly  I always 
look  for  you.”1  “I  wish  you  and  all  belonging  to  you,” 
he  wrote  on  New  Year’s  eve,  “ every  sort  of  happiness  in 
the  coming  year,  and,  if  you  desire  that  the  year  should 
he  a happy  one  to  me,  love  me  all  through  it.” 2 “I know 
your  feeling  towards  me  too  well,”  he  said  in  another 
letter,  “to  have  any  doubt  about  it  because  you  have 
been  silent  for  a few  days.  If  on  that  account  I had  any 
anxiety  I should  much  rather  think  that  it  was  business, 
which  I could  understand,  or  illness,  which  I should  very 
much  deplore,  than  slackening  of  friendship  that  kept 
you  from  me.  Of  that  indeed  you  have  given  too  good 
proof  by  wearying  yourself  out  with  writing  to  me  while 
your  head  yet  ached  and  your  hand  trembled  from  weak- 
ness. I grieve  that  I cannot  come  to  you,  instead  of 
the  servant  who  bears  this  letter.”3  Such  expressions  as 
these  help  to  show  us  the  affectionate  relations  existing 
between  the  two  men. 

They  were  not  altered  when,  in  the  spring  of  1686, 
Locke,  though  still  lodging  in  Dr.  Veen’s  house,  found 
himself  able  to  throw  off  his  disguise  and  move  freely 
about  the  city ; nor  when,  in  the  following  September,  he 
left  Amsterdam  for  a time  and  went  to  Utrecht,  by  a very 
circuitous  route,  and  on  business  in  which  we  are  not 
able  to  trace  his  movements. 

“ After  several  days’  almost  constant  travelling,”  he 
wrote  to  Limborch  from  Utrecht,  “I  have  at  length  reached 
a place  where  I begin  to  feel  at  rest,  and  am  able  to  renew 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [7 — ] 17  Dec., 
1685. 

2 Ibid.;  Locke  to  Limborch,  ultima  anni,  1685. 

3 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [13 — ] 23  Jan.,  1685-6. 


48 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


acquaintance  with  some  old  friends  here,  and  to  have 
some  welcome  intercourse  with  those  dearer  ones  who  are 
away.  You,  therefore,  best  of  friends,  I first  salute. 
How  you  and  yours  are,  and  how  you  are  occupied,  I am 
extremely  anxious  to  know.  No  interchange  of  letters 
can  compensate  for  absence  from  you ; but  to  be  without 
even  letters  is  exile  nearly  as  had  as  death.  I exist  when 

1 am  away  from  my  friends  ; I only  live  when  I am  with 
them,  and  with  you  chief  of  all.  How  long  the  many 
things  that  have  called  me  to  this  town  will  detain  me  I 
do  not  know.  If  in  mind  I could  be  present  at  Amsterdam 
with  you  and  Guenellon  and  Yeen  and  the  rest,  I should 
return  very  quickly  ; but  the  body  requires  clothing,  bed 
and  board,  and  these  things,  alas,  are  not  to  be  easily 
found  in  your  city.”1 

What  were  the  “ many  things”  that  called  Locke  to 
Utrecht,  and  why  he  expected  to  find  there  more  easily 
than  in  Amsterdam  the  “ clothing,  bed  and  board”  that 
he  required,  we  are  not  told.  He  appears  to  have  been 
anxious  to  get  back  to  the  books  and  papers  that  had 
been  left  at  Yan  Gulick’s  house  ever  since  his  hurried 
departure  from  it,  in  May,  1685,  without  which  such  lite- 
rary work  as  he  was  now  much  engaged  on  may  not  have 
been  easy  ; and  he  appears  also  to  have  been  encouraged 
to  leave  Amsterdam  by  fear  that  his  health  would  suffer 
if  he  passed  another  winter  in  the  city  of  canals  and 
ditches,  exposed  to  the  full  force  of  the  northern  winds, 
and  surrounded  by  many  pestilential  marshes  that  have 
since  been  redeemed  by  the  industrious  Hollanders.  But 
there  must  have  been  other  reasons,  to  which  we  have 
now  no  clue,  for  his  removing  to  the  inland  city,  with  the 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [22  Sept. — ] 

2 Oct.,  1686. 


SECOND  STAY  IN  UTEECHT.  49 

evident  intention  of  making  it  his  home  for  some  time  to 
come. 

In  his  letter  to  Limborch  he  enclosed  one  to  Le  Clerc, 
which  shows  that,  whatever  other  business  he  may  have 
had  in  hand,  he  was  intending  to  make  further  contribu- 
tions to  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle.’  “ ’Tis  with 
regret,”  he  wrote,  in  English,  which  Le  Clerc  could  read, 
“that  I consider  myself  here  at  this  distance  from  your 
conversation  and  the  advantages  I promised  myself  from 
it.  ’Twill  yet  he  some  reparation  for  that  loss  if  I maybe 
in  a condition  here  to  render  you  any  service.  If  I may  be 
so  happy,  pray  use  me  with  this  assurance,  that  I shall 
take  it  for  a kindness  and  find  satisfaction  in  it.  If  you 
have  any  copies  by  you  that  you  designed  for  me  of  our 
‘ Methodus  Adversariorum,’  ” he  added,  concerning  the 
article  that  he  had  contributed  to  the  ‘Bibliotheque 
Universelle  ’ in  the  previous  July,  “ I beg  the  favour  of 
you,  you  would  he  pleased  to  send  them  hither.  I would 
be  glad  some  of  them  were  put  into  Mr.  Wetstein’s  hand  ” 
— Wetstein  being  the  principal  bookseller  then  in  Amster- 
dam— “ for  my  friend  Mr.  Thoynard,  to  be  sent  to  him, 
when  he  has  an  opportunity,  by  some  other  way  than  the 
post  : when  I know,  and  how  many  you  destine  him,  I 
shall  write  to  him  about  it.”1 

The  different  tone  of  these  letters,  written  on  the  same 
day  to  Limborch  and  Le  Clerc,  would  seem  to  indicate 
very  clearly  the  different  relations  in  which  Locke  stood 
to  the  two  men.  His  friendship  with  Le  Clerc  had  not 
yet  reached  its  full  proportions  ; but  already,  as  to  the 
last,  Locke  appears  to  have  respected  and  admired  him 

1 MSS.  in  the  "Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Le  Clerc,  [22  Sept. — ] 
2 Oct.,  1686.  The  few  letters  from  Locke  to  Le  Clerc  which  are  extant 
were  written  in  English.  Le  Clerc  generally  replied  in  French. 

Vol.  II.— 4 


50 


KESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Cbap.  IX. 


for  his  intellectual  greatness,  to  have  esteemed  him  highly 
for  his  other  good  qualities,  and  to  have  found  no  less 
pleasure  than  profit  in  his  society.  They  were  good 
friends^  hut  never  more  than  friends.  Limborch,  like 
Locke  himself,  was  of  tenderer  humour  than  Le  Clerc, 
and  we  find  in  Locke’s  correspondence  with  him  the  same 
effusive  expression  of  affection,  though  with  some  differ- 
ence of  character,  that  we  found  before,  and  that  still  was 
maintained,  in  Locke’s  correspondence  with  Thoynard. 
They  wrote  to  one  another,  albeit  often  on  the  knottiest 
problems  of  theology  and  the  most  intricate  mazes  of 
philosophy,  like  lovers  rather  than  like  friends. 

‘‘  Though  by  long  habit,”  Locke  said,  nine  days  after 
the  letter  lately  quoted,  “ my  mind  has  become  somewhat 
indifferent  to  other  inconveniences  of  life,  I shall  never  be 
able  to  separate  myself  from  your  society  without  great 
trouble  of  mind.  For  to  you  I have  learnt  to  come  for 
instruction  by  your  learning,  confirmation  by  your  judg- 
ment, guidance  by  your  advice,  and  solace  by  your  friendly 
intercourse  ; in  short,  you  have  been  my  daily  counsellor 
through  all  my  troubles.  But  it  has  too  often  happened 
to  me  that  what  I most  desired,  and  when  I most  desired 
it,  cruel  fortune  has  refused  me.  That  I may  therefore 
wear  away  as  easily  as  I can  this  tedious  separation,  you 
ought  to  relieve  it  by  your  frequent  letters.”  1 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  305  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [1 — ] 11  Oct.,  1686. 
Limborch  was  a good  deal  troubled  by  the  opposition  offered  to  his  liberal 
theology  by  some  of  his  kinsfolk,  and  in  this  letter  Locke  commiserated  him 
thereupon,  as  well  as  congratulated  him  upon  the  friendship  shown  to  him 
by  some  persons,  especially  by  Gilbert  Burnet,  the  sometime  courtier  of 
Charles  the  Second,  now  busily  employed  in  Holland  in  promoting  his  own 
interests  and  those  of  William  of  Orange  and  the  latitudinarian  party.  “ If 
you  have  found  Burnet  any  more  kind  and  liberal,”  said  Locke,  “ I rejoice ; 
for  I constantly  desire  to  see  the  number  of  peacemakers  increase,  especially 


IC86.  "I 
Mt.  54.  J 


FOBCED  EETUEN  TO  AMSTEBDAM. 


51 


If  there  is  mystery  as  to  Locke’s  reason  for  settling 
down  at  Utrecht  in  September,  1686,  there  is  greater 
mystery  as  to  the  cause  of  his  sudden  removal  from  it  in 
the  following  December.  We  only  know  from  his  next 
letter  to  Limborch  that  on  some  ground,  which  cannot 
have  been  other  than  political,  he  was  now  threatened 
with  expulsion  from  the  city.  Perhaps  the  Utrecht  au- 
thorities were  not  aware  that  Locke  had  been  “ pardoned,” 
and  therefore  did  not  care  to  have  him  so  near  to  them. 
“ The  expulsion  of  which  you  have  heard,”  he  wrote  to 
his  friend,  “ I do  not  understand,  nor  do  I wish  it  talked 
about,  although  perhaps  I shall  have  to  come  to  you  again. 
I confess  that  a removal  from  this  place  wTould  he  some- 
what inconvenient  to  me  on  account  of  my  luggage.  I 
require  books,  for  which  it  is  not  easy  to  find  a place  in 
which  to  keep  them.1  If  I can  get  no  other  quarters,  I 
hope  you  will  forgive  me  if  I send  them  to  you,  and  ask 
you  to  stow  them  away  in  some  garret  or  other  in  your 
house,  until  I meet  with  a more  convenient  place.  This  is 
my  only  trouble,  that  I give  so  much  trouble  to  my  friends. 
The  rest  does  not  afflict  me.  These  are  the  sports  of 
fortune,  or  rather  the  ordinary  chances  of  human  life, 
which  come  as  naturally  as  wind  and  rain  to  travellers. 

among  protestants,  who  are  a great  deal  too  fond  of  quarrelling.”  Burnet’s 
name  is  supplied  from  the  original  letter  in  the  Remonstrants’  Library. 

1 At  some  time  during  his  residence  in  Holland,  Locke  devised  a portable 
book-case,  in  which  books  could  be  taken  from  place  to  place  without  remov- 
ing them  from  the  shelves.  I am  informed  that  the  invention  is  described 
in  a note  to  a Dutch  translation  of  one  of  Locke’s  works  ; but  I have  not 
been  able  to  meet  with  this.  The  following  is  from  the  catalogue  of  the 
effects  of  Locke’s  friend,  Benjamin  Furly,  of  whom  we  shall  see  much  here- 
after : “ Boekkassen  voor  alderley  Foormaat  van  Boeken,  geinventeert  door 
John  Locke,  Esq.,  zynde  zeer  begnaam  om  vervoert  te  werden,  zonder  dat 
men  de  Boeken  daar  nemen.” — ‘ Bibliotheca  Furleiana  ’ ('1714'),  p.  352. 


52 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


But  I have  some  consolation  ; for  I shall  see  you  in  a few 
days,  and  we  can  then  settle  what  is  to  be  done.  In  the 
meanwhile,  please  look  out  for  lodgings  for  me,  and  on 
that  matter  take  counsel  with  your  two  learned  friends,” 
— probably  Yeen  and  Guenellon  were  here  alluded  to 
“ but  it  is  important  that  the  expulsion  should  not  be 
thought  or  spoken  about.  That  is  a thing  which  I wish 
kept  as  quiet  as  possible.  Commend  me  to  those  friends, 
and  especially  to  your  dear  wife.  If  any  letters  for  me 
come  into  your  hands,  keep  them  till  I come  to  you.”  1 
That  letter  throws  much  interesting,  though  not  alto- 
gether welcome,  light  on  Locke’s  position  at  this  time. 
Sick  of  English  politics  in  the  degraded  state  that  they 
had  reached,  and  anxious  to  find  some  quiet  resting-place 
in  which  he  might  be  able  to  bring  into  regular  shape  the 
philosophical  inquiries  which  had  long  occupied  his  leisure, 
but  for  which  he  had  not  lately  found  much  opportunity 
or  had  sufficient  health  in  England,  he  had  come  to 
Holland  three  years  ago.  But  thither  political  troubles 
had  followed  him.  More  than  one  year  out  of  the  three  he 
had  been  compelled  to  spend  in  hiding  from  his  enemies  ; 
and  though  some  excellent  work  had  been  done  then, 
and  new  influences  of  the  utmost  value  had  been  exerted 
upon  him,  his  chosen  occupations  had  been  greatly  hin- 
dered. He  had  now  come  to  Utrecht  in  search  of  rest. 
But  before  two  months  were  over,  he  was  again  a fugitive  ; 
troubled  to  know  where  he  could  keep  his  books  and  make 
use  of  them ; troubled  to  give  so  much  trouble  tc  his 
friends  ; but,  as  he  said,  not  troubled  by  the  persecutions 
that  hunted  him  about.  “ Hi  sunt  fortunae  lusus,  vel 
potius  vitae  humanae  casus  ordinarii,  nec  magis  quam 
ventus  vel  pluvia  iterantibus  mirandi.” 

1 MSS.  in  Remonstrants'  Lib.  ; Locke  toLimborcb,  [2 — ] 12  Dec.,  1686. 


1(587.  I 
Mt.  55.  J 


REMOVAL  TO  ROTTERDAM. 


53 


Returning  to  Amsterdam  early  in  December,  and  be- 
coming the  welcome  guest  of  Dr.  Guenellon,  Locke  stayed 
there  hardly  two  months.  We  shall  next  find  him  at 
Rotterdam,  which  was  to  be  his  usual,  though  not  con- 
stant, place  of  residence  during  the  remainder  of  the  time 
that  he  spent  in  the  Netherlands,  and  where,  though 
his  old  relations  with  Limborch  and  Le  Clerc  were 
strengthened,  new  friendships  and  occupations  came  to 
him. 

His  removal  to  Rotterdam  seems  to  have  been  as  sudden 
as  his  last  removal  from  Utrecht,  and  his  prolonged  stay 
there  unforeseen.  “ He  desired,”  said  Le  Clerc,  in 
referring  to  this  brief  sojourn  in  Amsterdam,  “ that 
Limborch  and  I,  with  some  other  friends,  would  set  up 
conferences,  and  that  to  this  end  we  should  meet  together 
once  a week,  sometimes  at  one  house  and  then  at  another 
by  turns,  and  that  there  should  he  some  question  proposed 
of  which  every  one  should  give  his  opinion  at  the  next 
meeting ; and  I have  still  by  me  the  rules  which  he  would 
have  had  us  observe,  written  in  Latin  with  his  own  hand. 
But  our  conferences  were  interrupted,  because  he  went  to 
Rotterdam.”  1 

“ I grieve  much,”  Locke  wrote  to  Limborch,  soon  after 
arriving  in  Rotterdam,  “ that  I am  parted  from  you  and 
all  my  other  dear  friends  in  Amsterdam.  To  politics  I 
there  gave  but  little  thought ; here  I cannot  pay  much 
attention  to  literary  affairs.”  2 At  Rotterdam,  however, 
he  brought  to  something  like  completion  the  great  work 
that  he  had  been  projecting  and  preparing  during  at  least 
sixteen  years. 

1 ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke,’  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Choisie,’  vol.  vi. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [4 — ] 14  Feb., 
1686-7. 


54  RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND.  [Chap.  XX. 

Though  we  know  very  little  of  its  details,  and  though 
it  evidently  left  him  plenty  of  time  for  other  occupations, 
we  need  be  in  no  doubt  as  to  the  business  that  caused 
Locke  suddenly,  in  February,  1686-7,  to  leave  Amsterdam 
and  such  friends  in  it  as  Limborch  and  Le  Clerc,  Gue- 
nellon  and  Yeen,  with  all  the  congenial  intercourse, 
philosophical,  literary,  theological,  and  scientific,  that 
they  offered  him. 

. • 

English  politics  had  begun  to  take  a turn,  in  keeping 

with  a more  complete  change  of  policy  at  the  Hague,  by 
which  Locke’s  movements  were  greatly  affected.  He  had 
gone  to  Holland  to  avoid  association  with  and  personal 
inconvenience  from  the  disgraceful  and  apparently  hope- 
less state  of  affairs  into  which  Charles  the  Second  and 
his  advisers  had  brought  England.  Harsh  usage  and 
unjust  suspicion  had  followed  him  there,  and  they  had 
been  harsher  and  more  unjust  during  the  first  year  or 
more  of  James’s  reign  than  during  the  last  year  or  more 
of  Charles’s.  He  had  been  falsely  charged  with  participa- 
tion in  Monmouth’s  rebellion  ; and  as  long  as  William  of 
Orange,  honestly  or  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  gave  some 
support  to  the  efforts  of  the  English  government  to  get 
hold  of  all  the  obnoxious  refugees  in  Holland,  he  had 
either  to  hide  away  altogether  or  to  lead  a very  retired 
life.  Perhaps  good  to  the  world  came  from  this  in  the 
opportunities  that  it  forced  upon  him  for  paying  more 
steady  attention  to  literary  work  and  philosophical  specula- 
tions. But,  excellent  student  and  theorist  as  he  was,  he 
refused  to  recognize,  either  in  his  own  case  or  in  that  of 
others,  any  benefit  to  be  derived  from  theories  or  studies 
that  had  not  for  their  sole  method  and  object  the  improve- 
ment of  society  and  of  the  individuals  composing  it ; and, 
whatever  else  he  was,  he  was  always,  in  the  truest  sense 


1687.  ] 
^Et.  54. J 


CONNECTION  WITH  ENGLISH  POLITICS. 


55 


of  the  term,  a patriot.  He  saw  no  patriotism  in  useless 
rebellion  or  in  frivolous  schemes  for  effecting  a change 
that  gave  no  promise  of  reformation  ; but,  as  soon  as 
there  was  a prospect  of  good  work  being  done,  he  loyally 
devoted  himself  to  it  and  laboured  zealously  to  help  in 
making  it  as  good  as  it  could  be. 

Such  a prospect  arose  when  all  that  was  left  of  English 
statesmanship — only  broken  and  soiled  fragments  for  the 
most  part,  it  is  true — combined  to  bring  about  the  over- 
throw of  James  the  Second’s  corrupt  and  corrupting  „ 
government,  and  the  planting  of  William  of  Orange  on  the 
English  throne,  and  when  William  of  Orange,  after  long 
questioning  whether  the  prize  within  his  reach  was  worth 
grasping,  consented  to  throw  in  his  lot  with  the  English. 
Thereupon  Locke  established  himself,  not  at  the  Hague, 
where  the  revolution  was  being  plotted  for  most  eagerly, 
but  at  Eotterdam,  which  was  within  a short  day’s  journey 
of  the  Hague,  near  enough  for  participation  Id  all  important 
business,  and  distant  enough  to  be  free  from  contact  with 
the  small  selfishnesses  and  idle  projects  that  only  clogged 
the  good  enterprise  that  was  in  progress. 

Writing  to  Limborch  a few  weeks  after  his  change  of 
residence,  he  excused  himself  for  not  sooner  answering 
his  friend’s  letters.  “ Business  of  another  kind,”  he  said, 

“ prevented  me  ; and,  though  that  immediate  business  is 
completed  by  the  departure  for  England  of  the  person 
with  whom  I was  engaged,  and  I have  now  leisure  enough 
for  writing  letters,  I cannot  get  back  into  my  old  ways.”1 
Who  that  person  was  we  do  not  know,  nor  can  we  make 
clear  other  allusions,  of  later  date,  to  the  friends  who 
came  over  to  visit  him  in  Holland,  or,  being  in  Holland, 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  350  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [27  Feb. — ] 8 March, 
1686-7. 


56 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


CChai\  IX. 


occupied  his  time  with  business  too  extensive  and  im- 
portant to  allow  him  leisure  even  for  his  favourite  pastime 
of  letter- writing. 

His  chief  political  friend  in  Holland,  however,  can  easily 
be  identified.  When  his  acquaintance  with  Lord  Mordaunt, 
afterwards  Earl  of  Peterborough  and  Monmouth,  began,  is 
not  recorded ; hut  they  were  fast  friends  at  this  time. 
Mordaunt,  born  about  1658,  had  seen  much  active  service, 
and  had  attained  considerable  distinction  as  a seaman 
before  November,  1685,  when  he  startled  his  friends  by 
making  a first  and  last  speech  in  James  the  Second’s 
house  of  lords  in  eloquent  condemnation  of  the  Romanis- 
ing policy  of  the  government,  and  its  violation  of  the  test 
act.  Very  soon  after  that  he  crossed  over  to  Holland, 
ostensibly  to  seek  employment  in  the  Dutch  navy,  but 
really  to  offer  his  services  to  William  of  Orange  as  leader 
of  an  expedition  against  James  the  Second.  His  first 
rash  project  was  not  listened  to,  but  he  remained  at  the 
Hague,  and  became  the  chief,  or  almost  the  chief, 
adviser  of  William  on  political  affairs  ; Henry  Sidney, 
afterwards  Earl  of  Romney,  finding  his  most  congenial 
occupation  in  doing  the  dirty  work  of  negociation  with 
the  various  parties  and  adventurers  that,  prompted  by 
various  motives,  found  common  ground  in  their  desire  to 
place  a new  king  on  the  English  throne ; and  Gilbert 
Burnet,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  being  most  at 
home  in  settling  the  domestic  difficulties  between  Prince 
William  and  his  wife.  Locke  had  had  some  acquaintance, 
hut  no  friendship,  with  Burnet  in  former  times,  and  of 
Henry  Sidney  he  must  also  have  known  something ; but 
with  Mordaunt  he  had  most  sympathy ; and  besides- 
the  frequent  communications  that  passed  between  them 
in  1687  and  1688,  there  cannot  be  much  doubt  that 


RELATIONS  WITH  WILLIAM  OF  ORANGE.  57 

through  Mordaunt’s  infinence  he  was  often  brought  into 
personal  relations  with  the  prince,  and  had  much  to 
say  respecting  the  arrangements  for  the  projected  revo- 
lution. His  subsequent  position  in  regard  to  William 
and  his  leading  counsellors  cannot  otherwise  be  under- 
stood. 

For  Locke — known  to  him  only  by  report  as  the  great 
friend  of  Shaftesbury,  who  had  been  the  great  supporter  of 
Monmouth,  and  therefore  an  opponent  of  his  own  claims 
to  the  English  succession,  claims  that  he  did  not  care  to 
see  denied,  though  he  was  for  a long  time  not  eager  to 
enforce  them — it  is  tolerably  clear  that  William  of  Orange 
had  not  felt  or  shown  much  sympathy  during  his  stay  in 
Holland  hitherto.  Locke  had  certainly  been  in  no  hurry 
to  court  it.  Other  Englishmen,  honest  patriots  or  selfish 
adventurers,  had  crowded  together  at  the  Hague,  anxious 
to  win  the  favour  of  the  prince  who  had  so  good  a pros- 
pect of  becoming  king  of  England,  while  Locke  took  no 
pains  to  clear  himself  from  a false  accusation  that  was 
bringing  upon  him  much  personal  inconvenience.  But 
he  was  ready  to  take  pant  in  public  work  wdren  his  services 
were  wanted  and  could  be  made  useful  to  the  world,  and 
the  time  had  now  come  for  this.  Whether  William, 
understanding  at  last  his  real  worth,  sought  him  out,  or 
whether  accident  or  the  intentional  effort  of  mutual  friends 
first  brought  them  together,  cannot  be  decided.  We 
know,  indeed,  very  little  of  their  intercourse  while  they 
were  in  Holland,  or  of  Locke’s  detailed  share  in  the  active 
measures  that  at  this  time  were  being  adopted  for  placing 
the  prince  on  the  throne  of  James  the  Second ; but  it  is 
quite  clear  that  wdiile  the  revolution  was  being  planned 
a hearty  friendship  grew  up  between  Locke  and  William, 
and  perhaps  a yet  heartier  friendship  between  Locke  and 


58 


KESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[CHAr.  IX. 


William’s  amiable  wife,  the  Princess  Mary.  It  is  quite 
clear  also  that,  during  the  last  two  years  of  Locke’s  resi- 
dence in  Holland,  he  was  intimately  associated  with 
some  old  friends  of  his,  and  with  some  new  ones,  in  the 
efforts  that  were  now  being  made  in  statesmanlike  ways 
to  bring  about  the  revolution.1  Though  there  is  not 
much  to  be  said  about  it,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
political  work  devolved  more  and  more  upon  him,  and 
at  last  chiefly  occupied  his  attention,  while  he  was  in 
Holland.  But  we  have  much  fuller  information  concern- 
ing his  private  life  among  his  friends. 


During  the  two  years  which  Locke  spent  chiefly  at 
Rotterdam,  he  resided  with  a quaker,  named  Benjamin 
Burly,  whose  house  was  in  the  Scheepmakers-haven. 
Furly,  who  was  bom  in  1636,  had  been  one  of  George 
Box’s  early  converts,  and  had  helped  him  to  write  at  any 
rate  one  of  his  treatises,  ‘ A Battel-door  for  Teachers  and 

1 All  through  the  time  of  his  residence  in  Holland  Locke  maintained  an 
active  correspondence,  though  only  a few  fragments  of  it  are  extant,  with 
his  friends  in  England,  perhaps  especially  with  James  Tyrrell,  whose 
gossiping  letters  must  have  been  very  welcome  to  him  as  sources  of  authentic 
information  in  those  days,  when  newspapers  told  but  little  news,  and  very 
little  indeed  that  was  authentic.  Some  specimens  of  these  letters  are  given  by 
Lord  King,  pp.  169—172.  Locke's  most  important  political  correspondence 
has  not  come  down  to  us,  and  it  was  probably  destroyed  by  himself,  and  by 
his  friends  at  his  request.  To  more  than  one  of  his  letters  to  Limborch  and 
others;  in  which  he  made  some  cautious  allusion  to  public  affairs,  he  appended 
a request  that  the  persons  to  whom  they  were  addressed  would  destroy  them 
as  soon  as  they  had  read  them.  If  the  request  was  not  always  complied  with, 
the  letters  bearing  it,  which  have  reached  us,  were  doubtless  preserved  only  by 
accident,  or  because  the  recipients  found  in  them  nothing  that  there  could 
be  any  possible  danger  in  placing  on  record.  We  are  bound  to  assume  that, 
whenever  the  request  was  at  all  reasonable,  they  did  comply  with  it. 


^tfi8kl  WITH  BENJAMIN  FUELY  AT  EOTTEEDAM.  59 

Professors  to  learn  Singular  and  Plural,  You  to  many, 
and  Thou  to  one.’  His  other  writings  show  that  he 
was  an  honest  and  earnest  supporter  of  the  tenets  of  the 
society  of  friends,  but  it  is  clear  that  he  was  not  at  all  a 
fanatical  member  of  the  sect.  Persecution  or  fear  of  per- 
secution induced  him  to  settle  in  Kotterdam,  and  there 
he  became  a wealthy  merchant,  a great  student  and 
collector  of  books  on  theology,  philosophy,  science,  and 
nearly  every  other  subject,1  and  a good  friend  to  all  men 
of  parts,  especially  Englishmen,  who  happened  to  be  in 
Holland. 

Locke  appears  to  have  made  his  acquaintance  by  in- 
troduction from  his  friend  Edward  Clarke,  of  Chipley, 
soon  after  his  arrival  in  the  country ; and  it  would  seem 
that  Furly  acted  as  a sort  of  banker  for  him  all  through 
his  stay  there.  “ Bank  money  is  here  at  4f,”  Locke 
wrote  from  Amsterdam  in  February,  1687-8.  “ If  you  can 

secure  so  much  for  it  there,  draw  on  Hr.  Peter  Guenellon 
for  15,000  guilders  in  bank,  and  make  your  bill  or  bills 
payable  at  as  short  view  as  you  please.  Nay,  if  you 

1 When  Furly  died,  in  1714,  his  books  were  sold  by  auction,  and  the 
catalogue  of  the  ‘ Bibliotheca  Furleiana  ’ then  published,  filling  nearly  400 
pages,  is  a wonderful  list  of  valuable  works  in  print  and  manuscript. 
Furly’s  correspondence  was,  of  course,  not  then  sold.  It  was  retained  by 
his  family,  and  became  the  property  of  Dr.  Thomas  Forster  in  1825,  who  in 
1880  published  an  avowedly  garbled  and  very  incomplete  selection  from 
it  as  ‘ Original  Letters  of  Locke,  Algernon  Sidney,  and  Anthony  Lord 
Shaftesbury  ’ ; a second  edition,  with  a few  fresh  letters,  appearing  in 
1847.  Careful  search  for  this  collection  has  been  made  by  myself  and 
others  ; "but  I cannot  ascertain  its  whereabouts.  Should  any  reader  of  this 
work  be  able  to  help  me  in  discovering  it,  I should  esteem  his  doing  so  a 
very  great  favour,  as,  from  Dr,  Forster’s  preface,  it  is  evident  that,  besides 
what  he  has  published,  it  contains  a great  deal  that  ought  to  see  the  light. 
In  quoting  from  the  published  volume,  I shall  refer  to  it  as  ‘ Original 
Letters.’ 


60 


EESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


cannot  at  4f,  take  4£  rather  than  fail,  for  it  will  be  less 
trouble  than  to  get  the  bank  money  sold  here  and  then 
draw  it  in  current  money  thither.”1  Having  at  command 
as  much  money  as  he  needed,  it  is  clear  that,  while 
lodging  writh  Furly  at  Rotterdam,  as  with  Yeen  and 
Guenellon  at  Amsterdam,  and  with  other  friends  else- 
where, Locke  made  suitable  arrangements  for  defraying 
all  the  expenses  of  his  maintenance. 

It  was  probably  from  Furly’s  fine  old  house  on  the 
“ haven  ” leading  out  into  the  Maas,  that  Locke  wrote  to 
Limborch  shortly  after  his  arrival  and  before  he  had 
arranged  to  have  his  English  letters  sent  to  him  direct. 
“I  wish,”  he  said,  “that  there  were  many  letters  from 
England  coming  to  me  through  you,  in  order  that,  if  there 
were  any  unwelcome  news  in  them,  I might  get  in  the 
same  envelope  something  from  your  pen  which,  by  its 
kindness,  grace,  and  sweetness,  would  make  the  bad  news 
easy  to  bear.  Nothing  is  more  refreshing,  nothing  more 
agreeable  to  me  than  your  letters,  in  which  even  German 
theology  is  made  attractive.”  2 Limborch  seems  to  have 
written  a great  deal  about  German  theology  and  its 
Socinian  tendencies  in  his  letters  to  his  friend  at  this 
period.  “I  am  entirely  of  your  opinion  about  German 
theology,”  Locke  said  in  his  next  letter.  “ There  are 
and  always  have  been  a great  many  German  writers,  but 
among  all  their  multitudinous  productions  there  are  few 
which  do  not  disclose  their  nationality  by  their  mode  of 
thought.  But  you  have  a mode  of  thought  too,  which  I 
have  mastered,  and  it  is  not  strange  that  my  mind  should 

1 ‘ Original  Letters  ’ (ed.  1847),  p.  25  ; Locke  to  Benjamin  Furly,  [10 — ] 
20  Feb.  [1687-8], 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [4 — ] 14  Feb., 
1686-7. 


1C87.  “| 
JEt.  54.  J 


STUDIES  AT  ROTTERDAM. 


61 


be  ruled  and  governed  in  harmony  and  sympathy  with 
yours.  To  tell  the  truth,  I am  your  disciple,  and,  though 
an  inexpert  one,  I rejoice  that  you  have  led  me  as  you 
have  done.  I acknowledge  your  genius,  and  freely  resign 
myself  to  its  guidance.”  1 

“Remember  me  to  Mr.  Le  Clerc,”  Locke  wrote  soon 
afterwards  to  Limborch,  “ and  tell  him  that  I have  just 
received  from  England  a new  work  of  Sydenham’s” — 
vidently  the  ‘ Schedula  Monitoria  de  Novae  Febris  In- 
gressu,’  which  was  published  in  1686 — “ which  I have 
not  yet  read.  If  he  desires  either  the  book  or  a review 
of  it,  I will  gladly  send  him  either.” 2 Though  that 
passage  does  not  help  us  to  decide  whether  the  notice 
of  Sydenham’s  treatise  which  subsequently  appeared  in 
the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle  ’ was  written  by  Locke  or 
by  Le  Clerc,  it  makes  it  tolerably  clear  that  Locke  was 
in  some  sort  responsible  for  much,  if  not  all,  of  the 
attention  paid  by  the  Amsterdam  periodical  to  English 
literature. 

Of  English  books  he  was  evidently  a diligent  reader 
while  in  Holland.  One  of  these  books  was  the  curious 
‘ Theoria  Telluris  Sacra,’  written  by  Dr.  Thomas  Burnet, 
who  was  senior  proctor  at  Cambridge  in  1668.  The 
Latin  treatise  was  published  in  1681,  and  it  so  pleased 
William  of  Orange  that  he  helped  Burnet  to  pubhsh  an 
English  version  of  it  in  1684,  and  an  English  continuation 
of  it  in  1689.  It  was  a strange  contribution  to  geological 
science,  and,  though  itself  full  of  wild  fancies  and  ground- 
less theories,  helped  the  growth  of  that  science,  then  in  its 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  308;  Locke  to  Limborch,  [27  Feb. — ] 8 March, 
[1686-7]. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [31  March — ] 
10  April,  1687. 


62 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


feeble  infancy,  by  the  attention  which  was  excited  espe- 
cially by  its  bold  denial  that  the  world  was  created  in  six 
days,  according  to  the  statements  in  Genesis.  Boyle 
and  the  natural  philosophers  did  not  know  what  to  make  of 
it,  and  in  May,  1687,  we  find  Tyrrell  sending  to  Boyle,  in 
answer  to  his  request,  an  extract  from  a letter  which  he 
had  lately  received  from  Locke  on  the  subject.  “ The 
‘New  Theory  of  the  Earth’  I have  read  in  English,” 
Locke  had  written,  probably  in  March  or  April,  “ and 
cannot  but  like  the  style  and  way  of  writing  upon  thoughts 
wholly  a man’s  own  ; but,  though  it  be  a good  while 
since  I read  it” — “now  almost  two  years  ago,”  he  said 
in  another  part  of  the  letter — “and  that  but  cursorily, 
yet  there  stick  with  me  still  some  of  those  objections 
which  rose  in  my  way  as  I perused  it,  and  which  offered 
themselves  against  the  truth  or  probability  of  his  hypo- 
thesis, which  made  me  not  able  to  reconcile  it  either  to 
philosophy,  scripture,  or  itself.”1 

While  reading  and  writing  about  other  men’s  books, 
and  finding  a good  deal  of  occupation  in  the  political 
affairs  that  now  claimed  his  attention,  Locke  seems  to 
have  been  also  finishing  his  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human 
Understanding,’  or  preparing  the  epitome  of  it  which  was 
soon  to  appear  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle.’  “ Con- 
cerning the  treatise  of  which  you  require  some  account,” 
he  wrote  to  Limborch  in  May,  “ to  tell  you  the  truth  I 
should  have  informed  you  sooner,  had  I not  hoped  before 
now  to  be  in  Amsterdam,  and  there  enjoying  the  delightful 
society  of  friends,  yourself  especially,  without  which  there 
would  be  no  pleasure  for  me  even  in  this  pleasant  spring- 
time.”2 

1 Boyle,  ‘ Works,’  vol.  v.,  p.  620  ; Locke  to  Tyrrell  [1687] . 

2 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  811  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [6 — ] 16  May,  1687. 


1687.  "I 
.®t.  54.  J 


A LETTER  TO  BENJAMIN  FURLY. 


63 


Soon  after  writing  that  letter  Locke  paid  his  wished- 
for  visit  to  his  friends  in  Amsterdam,  and  he  remained 
there  till  some  time  in  August.  Thence  he  wrote  two 
letters  that  claim  to  he  quoted  on  account  of  their  diverse 
illustrations  of  his  temperament  and  leisure  occupations. 

The  first  was  addressed  to  Benjamin  Furly,  and  was 
evidently  in  answer  to  one  in  which  Furly  had  com- 
plained, for  himself  and  his  wife,  that  they  had  not  heard 
from  Locke  before. 

“ Dear  Friend, — One  cannot  take  amiss  the  kind  mistake  of  one’s  friends; 
hut  I should  be  very  sorry  to  have  given  any  just  occasion  to  your  wife’s 
misapprehension.  Had  she  been  better  acquainted  with  my  way  of  living 
with  those  I am  free  with,  she  would  have  known  that  silence,  when  I have 
no  business  to  write,  is  a liberty  I take  with  none  so  much  as  with  the 
friends  I am  most  assured  of  and  with  whom  I think  myself  past  all  cere- 
mony. But,  to  confess  the  truth  in  your  present  case,  I think  I should 
have  writ  sooner,  had  I not  every  day  expected  that  a letter  from  England 
would  also  bring  me  with  it  one  from  you,  and  that  then  I should  have  an 
occasion  to  answer.  For  I every  day  went  or  sent  to  Wetstein’s,  with 
hopes  to  find  one  there  from  you.  This  he  sure,  I was  anything  rather 
than  sullen ; and  I was  so  far  from  taking  any  offence  that  I am  not  dis- 
pleased at  the  opportunity  of  acknowledging,  once  for  all,  that  I was  never 
anywhere  with  more  freedom  and  satisfaction.  This  to  your  wife,  to  whom 
pray  give  my  kindest  remembrance.  As  for  yourself,  if  I mistake  not  very 
much,  you  and  I are  past  these  discourses ; and  therefore  let  me  tell  you 
that,  how  acute,  how  subtle,  how  learned  soever  you  are,  ’tis  not  you 
alone  have  the  privilege  to  pass  for  a Jesuit.  Other  people  of  lower  rank 
may,  I find,  sometimes  arrive  at  that  honour ; and,  had  it  not  been  for 
an  envious  Englishman  that  sat  at  the  other  end  of  the  boat,  who  dis- 
covered the  truth,  I had  in  my  passage  hither  gone  clear  away  with  that 
reputation.  This  story  is  too  long  for  a letter,  and  must  be  reserved  to 
make  you  laugh  when  I come.  Only  I desire  you  to  article  with  the 
baron  that  he  shall  not  pervert  me  when  I return  again  to  his  conversation. 
For,  being  now  got  to  be  of  the  most  orthodox  society  in  the  world,  I 
would  not  be  tainted  with  the  least  infection  of  heresy  for  all  the  gold  our 
English  chemist  there  is  like  to  make  ; and,  I make  account,  to  die  in  this 
unspotted  reputation  would  do  one  as  much  good  as  dying  in  St.  Francis’s 


G4 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


own  frock.  It  is  very  convenient  that  you  take  care  in  this  affair,  for  I 
find  the  great  desire  I have  to  return  again  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  and 
your  good  company  will  not  let  me  be  long  away.  Pray  salute  him  with 
my  most  hearty  and  best  respects,  and  be  assured  that  I am,  with  perfect 
sincerity,  your  unfeigned  friend  and  servant, 

“ J.  Locke. 

“ Remember  me  kindly  to  the  little  ones,  especially  to  my  little  friend. 
Bethink  yourself  if  I can  do  you  any  service  here,  or  for  Mr.  Van  Helmont.1 
I shall  be  glad  of  the  occasion.”  2 

The  other  letter  was  written  to  William  Charleton, 
■whom  Locke  had  known  at  Montpellier  some  ten  years 
before,  and  had  since  corresponded  with,3  and  who  was 
a great  traveller,  a great  collector  of  curiosities  of  all 
sorts,  and  a friend  and  correspondent  of  nearly  every 
contemporary  who  shared  any  of  his  tastes.4  But  for 

1 Franz  Mercurius  van  Helmont,  who  was  now  residing  for  a time  at  Rot- 
terdam, though  often  also  at  Amsterdam,  and  continuing  the  somewhat  fan- 
tastic studies  in  medicine  and  chemistry  which  his  father,  Johann  Baptista 
van  Helmont,  as  a disciple  of  Paracelsus,  had  done  much  to  promote.  I 
cannot  explain  the  allusions  in  this  letter  to  “the  baron  ” and  “the  English 
chemist.”  The  “little  friend”  was  Furly’s  younger  son,  Arent. 

2 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  27  ; Locke  to  Furly,  [20 — -J  30  July,  1687. 

3 Writing  to  Thoynard  from  Montpellier  on  8 April,  1681,  Charleton 
thanks  him  for  certain  things  he  has  sent  by  instruction  from  Mr.  Locke, 
“ whom  I shall  not  fail  to  inform  of  the  care  you  have  taken  to  serve  me.” 
Additional  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  28728. 

i His  real  name  was  William  Courten,  which  he  abandoned  as  a means 
of  escape  from  political  and  domestic  troubles.  “I  carried  the  Countess 
of  Sunderland,”  wrote  Evelyn,  on  the  16th  of  December,  1686,  “ to  see 
the  rarities  of  one  Mr.  Charleton,  in  the  Middle  Temple,  who  showed 
us  such  a collection  as  I had  never  seen  in  all  my  travels  abroad,  either 
of  private  gentlemen  or  princes.  It  consisted  of  miniatures,  drawings, 
shells,  insects,  medals,  natural  things,  animals  (of  which  divers — I think,  a 
hundred — were  kept  in  glasses  of  spirits  of  wine),  minerals,  precious  stones, 
vessels,  curiosities  in  amber,  crystal,  agate,  etc. ; all  being  very  perfect  and 
rare  in  their  kind,  especially  his  books  of  birds,  fish,  flowers,  and  shells, 
drawn  and  miniatured  to  the  life.  This  gentleman’s  whole  collection, 


16S7.  "I 
iEt.  54.J 


A LETTEE  TO  WILLIAM  CHARLETON. 


65 


this  stray  letter  we  should  know  hardly  anything,  how- 
ever, of  their  acquaintance ; and,  as  Locke  may  have 
maintained  with  a hundred  other  men  of  more  or  less 
note,  whose  connection  with  him  cannot  now  be  traced, 
as  kindly  an  intercourse  as  is  here  indicated,  it  is  im- 
portant that  we  should  observe  its  full  significance  as  an 
illustration  of  his  sympathetic  nature  and  readiness  to 
aid  his  friends  in  every  way  in  his  power.' 

“ Dear  Sir, — I cannot  but  take  kindly  from  Dr.  Goodall 1 any  service 
that  he  has  done  you,  and  he  cannot  oblige  me  more  than  by  putting  it  to 
my  account,  which  is  with  great  justice  done,  since  there  is  nothing  more 
nearly  concerns  me  than  your  health.  When  I write  to  him  I shall  acknow- 
ledge it,  and  also  recommend  it  to  him  as  an  interest  so  properly  mine  that 
he  may  assure  himself  that  if  he  administers  anything  to  the  recovery  of 
your  health  he  truly  takes  care  of  mine.  I have  not  had  time  since  the 
receipt  of  your  letter  yesterday  so  to  inform  myself  as  to  answer  all  the 
particulars  of  his  so  as  I desire,  for  which  I must  beg  you  to  excuse  me  to 


gathered  by  himself  travelling  over  most  parts  of  Europe,  is  estimated  at 
£8000.  He  appeared  to  be  a modest  and  obliging  person.”  (Evelyn, 
‘Diary  and  Correspondence,’  ed.  1850,  vol.  ii.,  p.  260.)  “I  went  again,” 
said  the  same  indefatigable  sight-seer,  on  the  11th  of  March,  1689-90,  “to 
see  Mr.  Charleton’s  curiosities  both  of  art  and  nature,  and  his  full  and  rare 
collection  of  medals,  which,  taken  altogether  in  all  kinds,  is  doubtless  one 
of  the  most  perfect  assemblages  of  rarities  that  can  be  anywhere  seen.  I 
much  admired  the  contortions  of  the  tea-root,  which  was  so  perplexed, 
large,  and  intricate,  and  withal  hard  as  box,  that  it  was  wonderful  to  con- 
sider.” (Vol.  ii.,  p.  306.)  This  remarkable  collection,  including  Locke’s 
contributions  to  it,  became  the  property  of  Sir  Hans  Sloane  after  the  death 
of  its  founder,  and  was  ultimately  lodged,  along  with  Sloane’s  other  trea- 
sures, in  the  British  Museum. 

1 One  of  Sydenham’s  most  skilful  and  persevering  disciples  and  fellow- 
workers.  To  him  Sydenham  dedicated  the  ‘ Schedula  Monitoria  ’ that  he 
had  lately  published,  and  he  lost  no  opportunity  of  commending  his  private 
virtues  and  his  professional  talents.  (Sydenham,  ‘ Opera  Omnia,’  ed.  Green- 
hill,  1846,  pp.  20,  278,  358,  362,  481.)  Being  Sydenham’s  friend,  Goodall 
was  Locke’s  friend. 

Vol.  II. — 5 


66 


EESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


him,  with  the  return  of  my  thanks  till  I shall  be  in  a condition  to  do  it  by 
an  answer  to  what  he  demands.  In  the  meantime  pray  do  me  the  favour 
to  inform  him  that  I remember  that  a friend  of  mine,  one  Mr.  Charleton, 
had,  by  the  use  of  tobacco  in  snuff,  contracted  at  Montpellier  a continual 
headache,  which  upon  the  forbearing  of  snuff  left  him  again.  Whether  this 
at  all  concerns  your  present  case,  I beseech  you  consider,  and,  if  fashion 
has  prevailed  upon  you  to  do  yourself  harm,  to  quit  it  again.  I with  the 
more  importunity  press  this  because  I remember  it  was  with  great  instance 
and  violence  I extorted  that  pleasure  from  you,  which  perhaps  forgetfulness 
has  suffered  you  to  return  to  again. 

“ I have  already  spoke  to  a friend  of  mine  to  get  for  you  any  rarities  that 
he  can  light  on  in  the  East  India  fleet  which  is  now  here  every  day  expected. 
I the  last  week  put  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Smith,  a bookseller,  living  at  the 
Prince’s  Arms,  in  Paul’s  Churchyard,  twenty-six  draughts  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  world,  especially  the  East  Indies.  They  are  marked  thus  : 2,  3,  4,  5, 
6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  14,  15,  16,  17, 18,  19,  20,  21,  22,  24,  25,  26,  27,  28,  29, 
30,  and  the  names  of  most  of  them  writ  on  the  back-side  with  my  hand. 
Those  whose  names  are  not  writ,  if  you  know  them  not,  I will  get  explained 
here.  The  Brazilian  cannibals,  of  which  there  are  one  or  two,  are  easily 
known,  hut  since  there  was  not  the  name  of  the  particular  nation  from  which 
they  were  taken,  I would  not  add  them  myself.  For  the  excellency  of  the 
drawing  I will  not  answer,  they  being  done  by  my  boy,  who  hath  faithfully 
enough  represented  the  originals  they  were  copied  from,  so  that  one  may  see 
the  habits  and  complexion  of  the  people,  which  was  the  main  end  they  were 
designed  for,  and  therefore  you  must  excuse  them  if  they  be  not  excellent 
pieces  of  painting.  I also  put  into  the  hands  of  the  said  Mr.  Smith  a little 
box  filled  with  the  seeds  and  husks  of  Foeniculum  Sinense  : the  husks  have  a 
very  fine  aromatical  taste,  and  are  used  by  the  Muscovites  to  be  mixed  with 
their  tea,  as  I have  been  told  ; which  is  not  I imagine  the  most  sottish  thing 
they  are  guilty  of.  If  you  think  the  seeds  will  grow  and  you  find  to  spare, 
I would  be  glad  you  would  send  two  or  three  of  them,  in  my  name,  to  Jacob 
Bobert,  the  gardener  at  the  physic  garden  in  Oxford,  who  may  endeavour  to 
raise  plants  from  them.  He  is  a very  honest  fellow,  and  will  not  be  un- 
willing to  furnish  you  with  any  curiosities  of  that  kind.  Moreri,  I find,  by 
your  so  often  mentioning  of  it,  lies  heavy  upon  your  hands,  not  that  you  are 
weary  of  the  book,  but  are  impatient  till  I have  it.  I tell  you  truly,  if  I 
had  a better  friend  to  whose  care  to  commit  it  till  I return,  I should  pre- 
sently ease  you  of  it ; hut,  if  you  cannot  be  easy  in  your  conscience  till  you 
find  it  wholly  in  my  possession,  I must  entreat  you  yet  to  have  the  patience 


1687.  1 
iEt.  51.  J 


A LETTER  TO  WILLIAN  CHARLETON. 


67 


till  I bethink  myself  how  to  dispose  of  it  commodiously.  You  are  one  of 
those  scrupulous  friends  that  cannot  be  at  rest  till  you  have  more  than 
quitted  scores,  for  so  your  exact  putting  them  to  account  gives  me  reason  to 
speak,  with  the  kindness  of  your  friends.  In  this  respect  Dr.  Guenellon  and 
you  are  well  met,  and  I who  am  of  a more  loose  and  careless  temper  am 
pleased  to  see  that  this  nice  humour  has  a little  perplexed  one  or  both  of 
you,  for  I see  that  the  doctor  is  in  pains  that  he  cannot  find  Gorlaeus  and 
the  other  books  you  desired. 

“I  most  earnestly  wish  you  health,  and  am,  dear  sir,  your  most  humble, 
most  obedient  servant, 

J.  Locke.” 

“ I was  told  you  promised  to  inquire  of  Serjeant  Maynard  for  the  herb 
which  cures  the  leprosy.  Give  me  leave  to  ask  whether  you  have  done  it  ? 
’Tis  not  fit  so  useful  a thing  should  be  lost.”  1 

A sequel  to  that  letter  was  written  a fortnight  later  : — 

“ Dear  Sir, — I lately  gave  you  the  trouble  of  a letter  to  let  you  know 
that  I had  sent  you  by  Mr.  Smith,  a bookseller  at  the  Feathers  in  Paul’s 
Churchyard,  twenty-six  draughts  of  several  foreign,  especially  Asiatic,  people, 
and  also  a little  box  of  the  seeds  of  Foeniculum  Sinense.  What  other  com- 
mands I have  from  you  in  yours  of  26th  July,  I shall  take  all  the  care  I can 
to  give  you  satisfaction  in. 

“ I herewith  send  you  a letter  and  a little  manuscript  for  my  Lord  Pem- 
broke, which  I beg  the  favour  of  you  to  deliver  to  his  own  hands  if  he  be  in 
town,  and  to  send  me  what  answer  his  lordship  shall  please  to  honour  me 
with.  If  his  lordship  be  at  Wilton,  I beg  the  favour  of  you  to  send  the 
whole  packet  away  by  the  next  post  to  Dr.  David  Thomas,  at  Salisbury, 
with  the  letter  here  enclosed  to  him.  If  I make  you  not  a long  apology  for 
this  trouble,  ’tis  because  I know  with  what  pleasure  and  readiness  you  oblige 
your  friends,  which  lays  on  me  the  greater  obligation  to  be,  as  I am,  dear 
sir,  your  most  affectionate  and  most  humble  servant, 

“ J.  Locke.”  2 

Having  spent  his  holiday  at  Amsterdam  in  hard  work 

1 Sloane  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  3962 ; Locke  to  Charleton, 
[2 — ] 12  Aug.,  1687.  Moreri’s  ‘ Dictionnaire  Historiqueet  Critique’  (1671) 
and  Gorlaeus’s  ‘ Thesaurus  Numismatum  ’ were  probably  the  books  referred 
to  by  Locke. 

2 Ibid.,  Locke  to  Charleton,  [16—]  26  Aug.,  1687. 


68 


EESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


and  in  pleasant  intercourse  with  his  remonstrant  friends, 
Locke  returned  to  Rotterdam  some  time  before  the  1st 
of  September,  when  he  wrote  to  Limborch  a letter  of 
which  the  most  curious  part  was  its  postscript : — “ When 
I was  in  Amsterdam  lately  I met  by  chance  with  some 
paper  which  was  better  than  any  I can  find  anywhere 
else.  I beg,  therefore,  that  you  will  buy  me  a ream,  and, 
when  you  send  it,  tell  me  what  you  have  paid  for  it.  This 
sheet  on  which  I write  will  show  you  the  size  that  I want. 
The  place  where  it  is  to  be  bought  you  will  learn  from  the 
sentence  which  I have  written  in  the  Dutch  language. 
Every  day  I read  some  Dutch,  and  I hope  soon  to  be  able 
to  express  properly  my  thanks  in  all  the  sincerity  that  is 
natural  to  your  own  language.”  Then  followed  the  sen- 
tence of  Locke’s  Dutch  : “In  een  kleyn  wincheltie  in  der 
passer  in  de  Warmoes-straat  schuijnes  over  de  liesweltlie 
Bijbel,  een  riem  papier  van  de  selve  sort  van  desse  brief.”1 

Soon  after  returning  to  Rotterdam  Locke  fell  ill. 
“ Ever  since  I received  the  book  you  sent  me,”  he  wrote 
to  Limborch,  “ I have  been  so  unwell  that  I have  not 
been  able  to  read  it ; but  as  I am  now  mending  every  day, 
I hope  I shall  not  much  longer  be  deprived  of  that 
pleasure.”2  “I  beg  you,”  he  said  in  another  letter,  “ to 
ask  Dr.  Yeen  to  send  me  eleven  or  twelve  bottles  of 
laudanum,  of  the  same  strength  as  before,  as  I have 
exhausted  all  the  stock  I had,  and  now  need  more  for 
my  own  use.”3 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [1 — ] 11  Sept., 
1687.  Next  door  to  the  old  Bijbel  Hotel,  in  the  Warmoes-straat,  there  is 
still  a bookseller  and  stationer’s  shop,  which  probably  has  retained  the 
same  business  ever  since  the  time  when  Locke  sent  to  it  for  his  ream  of 
paper. 

2 Ibid.,  Locke  to  Limborch,  [17 — ] 27  Sept.,  1687. 

8 Ibid.;  Locke  to  Limborch,  [26  Sept. — ] 6 Oct.,  1687. 


ILLNESS  AT  ROTTERDAM. 


69 


1687.  1 
M.  55.  J 

But  lie  received  better  medicine  than  laudanum  from 
Amsterdam.  “ Among  cordials,  and,  as  we  call  them, 
restoratives,”  he  wrote  again  to  Limhorch,  “I  find 
nothing  so  efficacious  as  the  kindness  of  friends.  Your 
last  letters  have  really  refreshed  me  very  much.  I should 
have  answered  the  first  of  them  some  time  ago,  if  I 
could  have  ventured  to  say  anything  positive  about  my 
health ; for  often,  when  I fancied  I was  quite  recovered, 
I have  had  another  relapse.  So,  between  the  pressure 
of  disease  and  the  hope  of  recovery,  I have  deferred 
writing  to  you  till,  after  a few  days’  trial,  I could  venture 
to  say  that  I was  convalescent.  This  delay  called  forth 
your  last  letter — so  full  of  friendship — and  thus  brought 
a remedy  more  useful  and  welcome  than  that  which  you 
sent  me  from  Dr.  Yeen.  That,  indeed,  was  wasted,  for 
the  maid  carelessly  overturned  the  bottle  and  spilt  all  its 
contents.  Now,  however,  I hope  to  have  no  further  need 
of  remedies  ; for  though  I am  yet  far  from  well,  I hope  I 
am  troubled  not  by  the  approach  of  a new  illness,  but  only 
by  the  remains  of  one  passing  away.  I am  not  afraid  of 
writing  thus  minutely  to  you,  because  I know  that  nothing 
else  would  satisfy  your  kind  solicitude  on  my  account.” 
It  seems  that  Limborch  also  had  been  ill.  “ I am  so 
very  glad,”  Locke  went  on  to  say,  “that  your  complaint 
was  removed  by  such  a small  loss  of  blood.  I hope  you 
will  always  use  as  much  prudence  and  promptitude.  If 
you  neglect  this  advice,  you,  though  a healthy  man,  have 
more  to  fear  than  an  invalid  like  me  : we  valetudinarians 
are  a sort  of  hypocrites,  who  are  constantly  threatening 
to  die  without  doing  it.  But  I hope  I shall  live  long 
enough  to  make  some  return  for  the  kindness  of  my 
friends,  and  yours  most  of  all.  Tell  the  Yeens  and  the 
Cfuenellons  and  vour  dear  wife  how  much  more  helpful  to 


70 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


["Chap,  IX. 


me  tlieir  kind  wishes  have  been  than  any  other  physio 
could  be  ; and  as  for  you,  farewell,  and,  if  you  want  me  to 
fare  well,  go  on  loving  me.”1 

There  was  a business-like  postscript  to  that  pathetic 
letter.  “ When  you  meet  Mr.  Le  Clerc,  tell  him,  please, 
that  I have  received  the  book  and  papers  he  sent  me,  and 
as  soon  as  my  health  will  allow  me  to  attend  to  such 
work  I will  do  what  he  asks.  The  enclosed  sketch  I 
have  kept  by  me  for  several  days,  because  I did  not 
feel  well  enough  to  write  to  him.  I beg  that  you  will 
now  hand  it  to  him,  in  case  he  thinks  fit  to  insert  it  in 
his  1 Bibliotheque.’  If  he  still  desires  Porphyry’s  book 
about  the  life  of  Pythagoras,  I will  take  care  to  send 
it  to  him  by  the  first  opportunity.” 

“ I am  sorry,”  Locke  wrote  a few  weeks  later,  “ that  I 
could  not  he  present  at  the  entertainment  of  your  friends 
— not  because  I should  have  cared  about  the  oysters ; for 
on  such  occasions  I grudge  nothing  more  than  the  time 
in  which  people  are  too  busy  in  using  their  mouths  in 
other  ways  for  them  to  talk.  I find  in  the  conversation 
of  pleasant  companions  a far  more  refreshing  relish  than 
I could  get  even  from  an  oyster  of  Gaurus.”  2 

Locke  was  among  his  friends  in  Amsterdam  again  in 
December  and  the  two  following  months,  the  special 
business  of  his  visit  being  superintendence  of  the  printing 
of  the  abstract  of  his  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Under- 
standing,’ which  appeared  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Univer- 
selle  ’ for  January,  1687-8. 

1 MSS.  in  Remonstrants'  Lib.;  Locke  to  Limborch,  [10 — ] 20  Oct.,  1687. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  319  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  20 — 30  Nov.,  1687.  The 
last  quoted  sentence  is  in  allusion  to  Juvenal’s  lines  (Satire  viii.,  1.  85)  : 

“ Dignus  morte  perit,  caenet  licet  ostrea  centum 
Gaurana.” 


A LAST  VISIT  TO  AMSTERDAM. 


71 


1SS7.  1 
2Et.  55.J 

The  letters  that  he  wrote  thence  to  Furly  are  in 
contrast  to  those  that  he  wrote  from  Botterdam  to 
Limborch,  and  help  to  show,  not  only  that  the  honest 
quaker  was  by  no  means  an  ascetic,  but  also  that  Locke 
himself  could  on  occasion  enjoy  the  society  of  jovial 
friends  as  well  as  that  of  theologians, — his  scorn  of 
oysters  notwithstanding.  “ You  wish  me  with  you, 
and  desire  I should  make  haste,”  he  wrote  at  Christ- 
mas time ; “ and  so  do  I too ; hut  I doubt  whether 
you  would  be  of  the  same  mind  if  you  knew  one  of 
my  reasons.  A cask  of  mum,  a hogshead  of  cyder,  even 
now  and  then  a bottle  of  wine  or  a zopy  ” — a pigtail — 
u among,  for  a more  effectual  remedy  against  phlegmatic 
humours  and  rainy  weather : this,  I suspect,  in  my 

absence  will  make  brave  work,  and  heresy  will  rise  up 
apace  in  the  Lantern1  when  so  watered;  and  the  chief 
mischief  is  I cannot  find  any  one  to  make  my  deputy 
overseer.  Our  old  master  and  you  will,  I know,  be  at  it 
with  t’other  glass,  and  our  mistress,  though  she  will  not 
partake,  yet  will  stand  by,  clap  her  hands,  and  encourage 
you  to  it.  For  my  part,  I think,  I will  best  make  Arent 
my  vice-governor,  who  may  often  repeat  to  you  his 
‘ Wil  gij  wel  laeten?’”  Arent  was  Furly’s  second  son, 
now  four  or  five  years  old,  and  to  him  Locke  doubt- 
less referred  when  he  said,  “ The  enclosed  is  for  my 
little  friend,  both  as  a token  of  remembrance  from  me, 
and  as  an  item  for  him  to  show  you  what  you  deserve 
when  you  meddle  with  your  zopies.”  2 

1 The  Lantern  appears  to  have  been  a club  that  met  at  Furly’s  house, 
perhaps  with  Locke  for  president,  or  moderator  of  the  mum-drinking. 

2 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  16  ; Locke  to  Furly,  [16 — ] 26  Dec.  [1687]. 
“The  water,  both  in  the  Ij,  and  on  the  land  side  of  the  town,”  Locke 
added  in  a postscript,  “ is  exceedingly  high.  If  it  should  get  into  the  town, 


72 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


Locke’s  letters  to  Furly  are  entertaining,  and  illustrate 
his  habit  of  bantering,  when  he  was  in  good  health  and 
good  spirits,  even  though  we  cannot  understand  all  the 
subjects  that  he  was  gossiping  about. 

“ ’Tis  not  to  answer  your  last  letter,  no  more  than 
your  last  answered  mine,  that  I now  write  to  you,”  he 
said  in  one  of  them  ; “but  to  keep  up  the  correspondence. 
But,  now  I have  begun,  I fear  it  will  scarce  pass  for  a 
letter  if  I,  who  have  not  altogether  as  much  pretence  to 
business  as  you,  should  not  make  it  a little  bigger,  though 
I can  tell  you  I am  as  busy  as  a hen  with  one  chick” — 
the  chick,  of  course,  being  the  epitome  of  the  ‘ Essay 
concerning  Human  Understanding,’  which  was  now  only 
waiting  to  be  printed  off  and  published.  “ I cannot,  I 
confess,  but  envy  you  when  I consider  you  in  the  posture 
you  describe  yourself,  with  the  great  folio  on  one  side  and 
the  diminutive  college” — was  that  the  Lantern?— “on 
the  other;  and,  since  the  mind  of  man  is  always  hankering 
after  sublime  and  difficult,  not  to  say  unintelligible,  notions, 
I am  apt  to  think  you  ever  now  and  then  lend  an  ear  to 
that  instructive  discourse,  and  leave  for  a while  your 
processes,  condemnations,  prisons,  and  executions,  to 
take  a little  fresh  air  in  those  unconfined  spaces  where 
separate  souls  wander  at  liberty.  But  have  a care  you 
get  no  more  into  the  sling  of  one  of  these  inquisitions 
than  into  the  dungeons  of  the  other;  for  I can  tell  you 
they  are  both  terrible  places.”1 

“ I envy  your  employment  in  that  musty  manuscript,” 

I know  not  but  you  must  come  in  a boat  and  fetch  me  from  Dr.  Guenellon’s 
as  soon  as  you  hear  it.  Without  jesting,  if  this  north  wind  continue  there 
will  be  danger.” 

1 ‘Original  Letters,’  p.  29;  Locke  to  Furly,  [27  Dec. — ] 6 Jan., 
1687-8. 


TROUBLE  WITH  PRINTERS. 


73 


1687-8.1 
.ffit.  55. J 

he  wrote  in  his  next  letter,  “ which  yon  will  easily  allow 
to  he  a great  deal  better  than  to  wait  here  the  leisure  of 
drunken  workmen,  who  have  so  great  a reverence  for  the 
holy  days  that  they  could  not  till  to-day  quit  the  cabarets, 
the  places  of  their  devotion,  and  betake  themselves  to 
their  profane  callings.  It  costs,  as  I have  already  told 
you,  not  a little  pains  and  patience  to  be  an  author.”1  “I 
suppose  to-morrow,”  he  wrote  a week  later,  “there  will 
be  one  sheet  printed  of  my  work,  and  there  being  but 
four  in  all,  I hope,  now  their  hands  are  in,  they  will  go 
on  roundly  and  not  make  me  wait  much  longer.”2  But 
the  printing,  or  any  rate  the  binding,  was  not  completed 
till  more  than  a month  afterwards.  “If  lying  be  a sin  that 
is  put  to  account,”  Locke  said  with  some  bitterness,  “ most 
ordinary  tradesmen  will,  I fear,  have  a hard  reckoning  to 
even  in  the  next  world ; for  there  is  scarce  one  of  them 
one  can  find  who  thinks  it  not  a privilege  of  his  calling 
to  break  his  word  whenever  it  may  serve  his  turn. 
But,  however,  they  are  all  good  Christians,  orthodox 
believers,  and  such  as  one  cannot  but  know  to  be  marked 
for  salvation  by  the  distinguishing  L that  stands  on  their 
door-posts,  or  the  funeral  sermon  that  they  may  have  for 
a passport,  if  they  will  go  to  the  charge  of  it.  This 
preface  will  not  be  altogether  beside  the  matter,  if  you 
expect  me,  as  ’tis  like  you  do,  the  same  day  you  receive 
this.  But  whatever  business,  desire  or  resolution  one  has 
to  see  one’s  friends,  those  above-mentioned  gentlemen,  I 
assure  you,  are  first  to  be  attended  and  their  leisure  to  be 
waited.  And  ’tis  no  small  joy  that  I am  so  far  out  of 
their  hands  that  I can  now  say  with  some  confidence 

1 4 Original  Letters,’  p.  33  ; Locke  to  Furly,  [9 — ] 19  Jan.,  1687-8. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  41 ; Locke  to  Furly,  [16 — ] 26  Jan.,  1687-8. 


74 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


that  I hope  to  be  with  you  on  Saturday  next.” 1 The 
following  Saturday  was  the  29th  of  February,  and  on  that 
day,  or  soon  after,  he  returned  to  Furly’s  house. 

The  letters  which,  during  his  absence,  Locke  had  written 
to  Furly,  show  very  clearly  in  what  friendly  relations  he 
stood  to  the  quaker  merchant.  Furly,  though  to  his 
commercial  pursuits  he  added  theological  and  antiquarian 
studies  and  a little  authorship,  was  evidently  much  more 
a man  of  the  world  than  Limborch,  or  any  of  the  Amster- 
dam remonstrants.  Locke  found  his  society  and  that  of 
other  members  of  the  Lantern,  whatever  sort  of  a club 
that  was,  a pleasant  relief  to  his  own  ordinary  studios, 
and  along  with  Furly  he  must  have  been  brought  much 
more  closely  into  contact  with  the  political  movements 
that  could  not  fail  to  be  extremely  interesting  to  every 
Englishman,  and  especially  to  such  a steady  patriot  and 
eager  lover  of  liberty  as  Locke  was.  In  the  Furly  house- 
hold, moreover,  he  was  evidently  quite  at  home.  During 
his  absence  he  never  wrote  a letter  without  sending 
affectionate  messages  to  Mrs.  Furly  and  her  children,  of 
whom  Arent,  to  whom  he  gave  the  nickname  of  Toetie, 
was  his  favourite.  For  these  children  he  invented  and 
caused  to  be  prepared  a copy  book,  that  was  intended  to 
teach  them  to  write  as  legibly  as  possible.2  One  of  them, 
the  eldest,  being  ill  while  he  was  in  Amsterdam,  he  sent 
careful  directions  for  his  treatment.  In  every  way  he 
seems  to  have  made  himself  altogether  a member  of  this 
family,  and  his  kindly  interest  in  it  lasted  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

Immediately  after  his  return  to  Rotterdam  Locke 

1 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  42  ; Locke  to  Furly  ; [23  Feb. — ] 4 March,  1687-8. 

2 Ibid.  The  same  method  was  recommended  by  Locke  in  ‘ Some  Thoughts 
concerning  Education,’  § 160. 


1 1'88.  "| 
JSt.  55.  J 


OCCUPATIONS  AT  ROTTERDAM. 


75 


resumed  his  correspondence  with  Limborch,  which  had 
been  agreeably  disturbed  by  their  personal  intercourse ; 
but  the  letters  written  during  the  spring  and  summer  of 
1688  are  not  of  very  much  interest.  There  is  much 
in  them,  however,  about  a £ Liber  Sententiarum  Inquisi- 
tionis  Tholosanae,’  full  of  important  contemporary  infor- 
mation concerning  the  proceedings  of  the  holy  office  at 
Toulouse  in  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  the 
manuscript  of  which  had  come  into  Furly’s  possession, 
and  about  the  publication  of  which  he  and  Locke  sought 
Limborch’s  advice  and  assistance.  “ When  you  see  what 
it  contains,”  Locke  wrote,  “ I think  you  will  agree  with 
us  that  it  ought  to  see  the  light.  For  it  contains  authen- 
tic records  of  things  done  in  that  rude  age  which  have 
been  either  forgotten  or  purposely  misrepresented.  I would 
rather,  and  I feel  sure  all  who  love  truth  would  rather, 
that  such  uncorrupted  narratives  should  be  published 
than  that  we  should  have  those  ornamental  histories 
which,  whatever  renown  they  may  bring  to  their  authors, 
only  deceive  and  mislead  their  readers.  I spoke  to  Le 
Clerc  about  editing  it  before  I left  Amsterdam.  Please 
consult  with  him  about  it,  and  see  what  can  be  done.”1 
Le  Clerc  did  not  edit  it,  but  it  induced  Limborch  to  pursue 
some  studies  that  he  had  already  begun,  and  four  years 
afterwards,  when  his  studies  issued  in  the  publication  of 
his  £ Historia  Inquisitionis,’  it  formed  a valuable  supple- 
ment to  that  important  work. 

With  Le  Clerc  Locke  does  not  appear  to  have  corre- 
sponded very  frequently,  but  in  July  he  wrote  to  him  an 
interesting  letter  that  illustrates  the  attention  paid  by  him 
to  a subject  somewhat  alien  to  his  usual  studies.  It  was 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [4 — ] 14 
March,  1687-8. 


76 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


called  forth  by  an  article  that  Le  Clerc  had  shortly 
before  published  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle,’  with 
the  title  ‘Essai  de  Critique,  ou  l’on  tache  de  montrer 
en  quoi  consiste  la  Poesie  des  Hebreux.’ 1 The  nature  of 
the  treatise  is  made  evident  by  Locke’s  observations 
upon  it. 

“ Sir,— I know  not  wliy  you  should  excuse  the  slow  sending  the  ninth 
tome  of  your  ‘ Bibliotheque,’  unless  you  have  made  to  yourself  some  law  I 
know  not  of,  and  which  I cannot  suppose  without  a mighty  increase  of  the 
obligation. 

“ Your  discourse  of  the  Hebrew  poetry  I have  read  with  mighty  satisfac- 
tion, and  am  so  far  from  having  anything  to  say  against  your  hypothesis 
that  it  seems  to  me  as  clear  as  any  demonstration  can  be  concerning  such 
matters  ; for  so  I call  such  evident  probabilities  as,  arising  from  the  things 
themselves,  have  no  counterbalance  on  the  other  side.  I know  not  what 
cavils  prejudice  or  party  may  raise  against  you,  for  some  men  who  are 
devoted  to  a sect  and  not  to  truth  are  never  to  be  satisfied,  and  ’tis  no  great 
matter  whether  they  are  or  not. 

“ If  it  were  necessary  to  add  anything  to  that  full  proof  you  have  given 
of  the  Hebrew  verses  being  in  rhyme,  I think  one  might  say  that  the  other, 
by  measure,  is  unnatural,  and  had  never  been  in  the  world  had  not  the 
variety  of  dialects  of  the  Greeks  using  the  same  language  in  several  distinct 
communities,  by  their  various  placing  and  forming  their  words,  given  occa- 
sion to  it.  The  Romans,  who  derived  their  language  and  learning  from  the 
Greeks,  were  almost  under  a necessity  to  follow  their  way  of  poetry 
too,  but  wanted  so  much  of  the  conveniencies  of  that  language  to  do 
it  that  it  was  very  late  before  poetry  got  any  footing  amongst  them, 
and  then  it  was  only  hexameters,  which  have  the  greatest  latitude, 
except  their  dramatic  trimeters,  which  differ  little  from  prose.  For 
Horace  was  tbe  first  as  well  as  almost  the  last  amongst  the  Romans 
that  durst  venture  their  tongue  at  lyric  poetry ; and  he  too,  with  his 
great  wit  and  command  of  expression,  was  fain  in  many  places  to 
transgress  the  rules  of  his  language  and,  with  Grecian  liberty,  use  foreign 
ways  of  speaking  to  accommodate  his  words  to  the  measures  of  the  Greek 
verses  he  imitated.  Besides  these  two  languages,  I think  there  cannot  be 
another  produced  wherein  tbeir  way  of  versifying  was  not  in  rhyme.  For, 


1 ‘Bibliotheque  Universelle,’  vol.  ix.,  pp.  219 — 291. 


1688.  1 
2Et.  55.  J 


REMARKS  ON  HEBREW  POETEY. 


77 


however  yon  have  quoted  the  English  for  writing  verses  without  rhyme,  yet 
I know  but  one  man  that  has  done  so,  and  he,  too,  one  much  versed  in  and 
addicted  to  the  Greek  and  Roman  polite  learning,  whose  admiration  of  their 
poetry  put  him,  as  I imagine,  in  that  way  of  writing. 1 Some  translations 
I think  there  may  be,  too,  in  the  way  of  blank  verses,  as  we  call  them,  but 
they  are  little  regarded,  and  scarce  thought  different  from  prose.  And  we 
see,  as  you  yourself  have  observed,  that  as  soon  as  the  Greek  language 
began  to  he  out  of  vogue  and  use  amongst  the  Romans,  rhyming  poetry 
came  in  also  in  their  language  ; which,  as  I said,  I think  is  the  most  natural 
way  of  verses,  which  the  Greeks  alone,  who  affected  to  be  originals  in 
everything,  had  the  conveniency  and  boldness  to  transgress.  For  the 
Romans  I count  only  their  scholars. 

“ If  there  he  anything  in  the  whole  essay  wherein  I differ  at  all  from  you, 
it  is  only  in  this,  that  I wish  you  had  left  out  the  supposition  you  make 
(p.  239)  that  perhaps  sometimes,  here  and  there,  they  neglected  the  rhyme  ; 
which  is  not  very  probable  if  their  poetry  consisted  in  it ; and  we  never  see 
it  done  in  rhyming  verses  any  more  than  the  feet  are  neglected  in  metrical ; 
for  this  would  be  to  write  half  verse,  half  prose.  This,  though  it  be  a 
reason  to  me  against  that  supposition,  yet  is  not  that  for  which  I except 
against  it.  For  I should  not  he  much  curious  to  inquire  into  the  ancient 
poetry  of  the  Jews,  if  it  terminated  in  a bare  speculation  against  this  piece 
of  antiquity.  That  which  affects  me  in  it  is  the  prospect  I have  that  it  may 
be  of  mighty  use  to  correct  many  errors,  and  give  us  a great  light  into  the 
Hebrew  text  as  we  have  it.  But,  if  it  be  once  granted  that  in  their  poetry 
they'  neglected  the  rhyme,  it  will  be  apt  to  stop  men’s  farther  inquiry  where 
they  can  make  out  the  sense  without  it.  But,  on  the  other  side,  I should 
rather  conclude  that,  wherever  the  rhyme  is  wanting,  there  our  copies  differ 
from  the  original.  Nor  are  we  to  think  that  there  was  no  rhyme  because 
we  cannot  now  make  it  out  with  as  good  sense  as  it  carries  in  our  present 
reading  without  it.  For,  if  to  the  difficulties  you  mention  one  add  this,  that 
the  books  written  in  Hebrew  which  are  come  to  our  hands  cannot  be  sup- 
posed to  contain  the  whole  compass  of  the  language,  one  shall  quickly  lose 
the  hopes  of  reforming  all  the  faults  of  the  copyists.  They  had,  no  doubt, 
many  words  and  expressions  which  are  nowhere  in  the  Scripture.  And, 
had  we  no  other  remains  of  the  Roman  language  than  what  is  to  be  found 
in  the  writings  of  Tully  and  Livy  (which  are  a great  deal  more  than  our 
Old  Testament  contains)  we  should  thereby  be  very  ill  able  to  establish  a 
very  imperfect  copy  of  Horace’s  ‘ Odes,’  writ  like  prose,  if  such  an  one  alone 


1 Locke,  of  course,  here  alluded  to  Milton. 


78 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  I. 


had  been  all  could  have  been  found  of  him.  But  I think  we  should  not  from 
thence  conclude  that  the  Romans  used  to  neglect  the  just  measure  of  their 
feet  because  we  could  not  at  this  distance  reduce  them  into  that  exactness 
by  any  change  of  words  we  could  find  to  supply  the  defects  of  the  ill-written 
copy. 

“I  shall  make  no  apology  for  taking  this  liberty,  having  done  it  in 
obedience  to  your  commands,  or  rather  to  provoke  you  to  the  same  with  me 
on  some  other  occasion.  The  discovery  you  have  made  I think  of  great  use, 
and  I wish,  as  your  leisure  will  permit,  you  would  go  on  reducing  the  Psalms 
into  their  original  rhymes  as  far  as,  out  of  the  state  they  now  are  in,  it  is 
possible  to  be  done. 

“ I have  some  further  questions  to  propose  to  you  on  this  subject,  but 
my  letter  is  already  grown  beyond  the  measure  I at  first  designed  it ; and 
yet  I must  not  conclude  it  without  telling  you  that  I wonder  you  so  little 
esteem  the  gentleman  you  mention  capable  of  penetrating  far  into  the  eastern 
poetry.  Methinks  he  has  the  most  poetical  head  of  any  man  I ever  met 
with.  His  visions  are  beyond  the  reach  of  those  dull  people  who  conduct 
their  thoughts  by  paltry  reason.  And  be  must  needs  have  a large  fame  in 
Parnassus  who  can  expect  so  great  an  income  from  it.  The  truth  is,  in  all 
but  his  meat,  drink,  clothes,  and  some  other  accoutrements  of  life,  he  is 
very  rich,  and  if  the  world  would  but  take  those  commodities  he  has  at  his 
rate,  he  would  be  no  small  man.  The  mischief  is  the  ignorant  world  knows 
not  how  to  value  them,  and  so  the  exchange  of  knowledge  for  money  is  not 
made,  though  wanted  on  both  sides.  And  I see  no  remedy  for  it  but  we 
must  be  condemned  to  ignorance  and  he  to  threadbare  clothes  ; though  who 
can  but  think  it  great  pity  that  a head  which  is  the  treasure  of  such  a mass 
of  precious  knowledge  should  be  covered  with  a peruke  so  much  weather- 
beaten and  out  of  repair  ? 

“ About  two  months  since,  I was  told  at  Leers’s  1 that  Simon’s  J Histoire 
Critique  du  Nouveau  Testament  ’ was  in  the  press  and  that  it  would  be  done 
about  this  time ; but,  being  last  week  at  his  shop,  I saw  four-and-twenty 
sheets  of  it,  all  that  was  then  printed  of  three  score — which  they  say  it  will 
amount  to — so  that,  according  to  this  reckoning,  we  may  expect  it  will  be 
published  about  four  months  hence. 

“ I long  to  see  your  next  volume,  and  shall  be  not  a little  confirmed  in  my 
opinion  concerning  the  whole  business  of  words  as  I have  treated  it  in  my 
third  book,2  if  I find  your  thoughts  concur  with  it,  and  that  it  may  be  applied 

1 The  principal  bookseller  then  in  Rotterdam. 

2 Of  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.’ 


1588.  1 
iEt.  55. J 


REMARKS  ON  HEBREW  POETRY. 


79 


with  any  advantage  to  the  understanding  of  ancient  writers,  which  I have 
been  apt  to  think  the  ordinary  way  of  critics  leads  not  to 

“ I cannot,  nor  I ought  not  to,  find  fault  with  this  ninth  tome  of  your 
‘ Bibliotheque  ’ ; hut  yet  I cannot  forbear  to  tell  you  that  it  wants  the  asterisks 
of  distinction  which  you  have  done  me  the  favour  to  place  at  the  beginning 
of  some  of  the  other  tomes.  I am,  sir,  your  most  humble  and  most  obedient 
servant,  “ J.  Locke.”1 

“ I have  read  with  much  pleasure,”  Locke  wrote  oll 
the  same  day  to  Limborch,  “ our  friend  Le  Clerc’s  ‘ ex- 
periment,’ as  he  calls  it,  on  the  ancient  poetry  of  the 
Hebrews,  and  I am  persuaded  that  by  his  method  much 
light  may  be  thrown  on  the  Psalms  and  other  metrical 
portions  of  the  Bible.  I should  much  like  to  see  a com- 
plete edition  of  the  Psalms  thus  arranged  by  him.  Do 
urge  him  to  undertake  such  a wTork  as  quickly  as  his  other 
occupations  will  permit.  When  I first  discussed  Le 
Clerc’s  view  with  a friend  of  mine,  well  versed  in  Hebrew 
literature,  he  rejected  it,  but  he  now  adopts  it.”  2 

Locke’s  next  letter  to  Limborch  reminds  us  of  his  old 
occupations  as  a student  of  medicine.  In  the  autumn  of 
1688,  all,  or  nearly  all,  of  Limborch’s  children — he  had 
several  daughters,  but  apparently  only  one  son — were  ill. 
“I  am  truly  sorry,”  Locke  now  wrote,  “that  you  have 
had  so  much  trouble  in  yOur  family ; but  I hope  your  boy 
will  soon  recover,  as  the  rest  have  done.  As  I am  absent 
I will  not  venture  to  say  much  about  the  disease  and  its 
cure,  especially  as  you  have  such  kind  and  skilful  medical 
friends  at  hand.  Let  me,  however,  recommend  one  thing. 
If,  as  you  seem  to  expect,  small-pox  shows  itself,  be  very 
careful  to  avoid  all  heating  medicines,  and  do  not  load 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants’  Library ; Locke  to  [Le  Clerc],  [20 — ] 30  July 
[1688]. 

2 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  322;  Locke  to  Limborch,  [20 — ] 30  July,  1688. 


80 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


him  with  bed-coverings  that  are  likely  to  bring  on  a fever 
which  will  greatly  increase  his  clanger.  My  love  for  you 
and  all  belonging  to  you  forces  me  to  say  this  ; and  I 
speak  from  experience.”1  “My  great  anxiety  has  been 
most  happily  relieved,”  he  wrote  next  day,  “by  your 
letter  of  yesterday.  If  I did  not  fear  the  worst  from  your 
silence,  I was  certainly  alarmed ; for  people  who  love 
their  friends  can  never  believe  that  no  news  is  good  news  ; 
but  now  I rejoice  that  all  goes  well,  and  that  nothing  hut 
care  and  good  dieting  are  required  to  cure  your  son.  Let 
me  give  you  my  advice  ; not  because  I think  you  can 
need  it  when  such  a wise  and  experienced  doctor  as  Yeen 
is  by  your  side,  hut  because  I know  you  have  faith  in  me 
and  will  listen  to  what  I say.  After  this  disease,  most 
doctors  are  in  the  habit  of  again  and  again  administering 
purgatives  with  the  object  of  clearing  off  all  remaining 
traces  of  disease,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  they  are  very 
apt  to  themselves  encourage  the  evils  which  they  deem  it 
necessary  to  purge  away.  Patients  recovering  from  the 
small-pox  generally  have  an  enormous  appetite,  which,  if 
a careful  and  moderate  diet  is  not  pursued,  causes  the 
stomach  to  he  over-loaded  and  the  blood  to  be  brought 
into  a condition  for  breeding  fresh  disease.  Old  women 
and  doctors  nearly  always  offend  in  this  way,  thinking 
that  the  more  food  they  give  the  more  the  invalid  will  he 
strengthened.  Now,  nothing  but  what  suits  the  stomach 
nourishes  the  blood,  strengthens  the  body,  and  brings  it 
into  a healthy  condition.  Over-feeding  not  only  does  no 
good,  hut  breeds  vicious  humours  and  encourages  disease. 
I entreat  you  to  bear  this  in  mind.”  2 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  (partly  in  the  ‘ Familiar  Letters,’ 
p.  323) ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [14 — ] 24  Nov.,  1688. 

* Ibid. ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [15 — ] 25  Nov.,  1688. 


1G83.  “I 
iEt.  56.  J 


LAST  OCCUPATIONS  IN  HOLLAND. 


81 


That  view  of  Locke  recurring  to  his  former  studies  in 
the  medicine  of  common  sense  comes  pleasantly  to  ns  at 
this  time,  when  it  was  clear  that  he  was  busily  engaged 
in  very  different  sorts  of  work. 

“ I had  many  other  things  to  say  to  you,”  he  had 
written  to  Limborch  on  the  day  on  which  he  had  sent  off 
his  long  letter  to  Le  Clerc,  suggesting  that  the  Psalms  of 
David  should  be  submitted  to  the  same  rules  for  arriving 
at  a correct  text  as  were  appropriate  to  the  Odes  of  Horace  ; 
“ but  I am  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  a friend  from 
England.”  1 His  quiet  life  in  Holland  seems  to  have  been 
often  broken  in  upon  by  the  arrival  of  friends  from 
England,  who  came  on  business  that  took  him,  as  well  as 
them,  on  frequent  visits  to  the  Hague,  where  William  of 
Orange  was  at  last  preparing  to  make  himself  king  of 
England.  “ I hope,”  we  find  him  writing  in  July  to  his 
old  friend,  Nicolas  Thoynard,  with  whom  he  had  kept 
up  a steady  correspondence  throughout  these  years, 
though  very  few  of  the  letters  have  been  preserved,  “ I 
hope  before  this  you  have  understood  from  mine  of  the 
29th  of  June  why  I have  been  so  tardy  in  answering  your 
former  letters.  I have  been  obliged  by  certain  friends 
who  arrived  in  this  country,  and  whom  I had  hardly  seen 
before  since  I left  England,  to  go  about  with  them,  so  that 
I only  received  yours  of  the  6th  the  day  before  yesterday, 
and  this  is  the  first  opportunity  I have  for  reading  and 
answering  it.”2  “I  have  been  away  from  home,  and 
therefore  could  not  possibly  write  to  you  sooner,”  he  wrote 
again  to  the  same  friend  on  the  31st  of  October,3  That 

1 ‘ Familial-  Letters,’  p.  323  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [10 — ] 20  July,  1688. 

2 Additional  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  28836  ; Locke  to  Thoynard, 
26  July — ] 5 August,  1688. 

3 Ibid.,  no.  28753;  Locke  to  Thoynard,  [31  Oct. — ] 10  Nov.,  1688. 

Vol.  II.— 6 


82 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX. 


was  the  day  before  the  Prince  of  Orange  made  his  final 
departure  for  England. 

“ I hope  your  son’s  health  is  not  in  such  a state,” 
Locke  wrote  a fortnight  later  to  Limborch,  “ that  I may 
not  speak  of  other  things,  especially  when  it  is  to  tell  you 
some  good  news.  Our  friend  Eurly  had  an  interview 
with  the  prince  before  he  went  away,  and  urged  him  to 
put  a stop  to  the  persecution  that  has  been  attempted  in 
this  province  at  such  an  especially  unseasonable  time. 
He  put  the  case  so  strongly  that  the  prince  wrote  a letter 
to  the  bailiff  of  Kammerland,  who,  with  the  sanction  of 
the  synod,  had  ordered  Foeke  Floris,  the  minister  of  the 
Mennonite  church,  to  leave  the  country  within  eight 
days.  The  history  of  this  Foeke  Floris  you  can  learn 
from  others  better  than  from  me  ; for  Furly  knew  nothing 
about  him  till  this  affair  came  to  light.  Believing,  how- 
ever, that  the  common  interests  of  Christians  were  in- 
volved, he  took  up  the  matter  with  his  usual  zeal,  and  I 
believe  the  prince’s  letter  will  stop  the  persecution.”1 
The  history  of  Foeke  Floris  has  not  come  down  to  us, 
and  we  are  told  nothing  more  concerning  the  troubles  of 
the  disciples  of  Simon  Menno  in  their  home  among  the 
dykes  and  dunes  and  swamps  of  Zeeland ; but  as  they 
were  peaceable  and  devout  Christians,  whose  only  crime 
was  their  belief  in  the  simple  humanity  of  Christ,  we  can 
understand  why  Furly  and  Locke  took  so  much  interest 
in  this  case. 


On  the  1st  of  November,  1688,  William  of  Orange 
started  on  his  memorable  voyage  for  England,  having 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [14 — ] 24  Nov., 
1688. 


1688-9.“| 
2Et.  66.J 


GOING  BACK  TO  ENGLAND. 


83 


been  detained  a fortnight  by  bad  weather.  With  him 
went  Mordannt  and  Locke’s  other  friends,  as  well  as 
Burnet  and  all  the  other  chief  advisers  of  the  prince. 
Locke  remained  in  Holland  more  than  three  months 
longer,  and  appears  to  have  been  in  frequent  attendance 
on  the  Princess  Mary,  who  waited  at  the  Hague  till  her 
husband  should  inform  her  that  the  time  was  come  for 
her  to  join  him.  That  information  reached  her  near  the 
end  of  January,  1688-9. 

“ This  sudden  and  not  yet  looked-for  departure  of  the 
princess,”  Locke  wrote  to  Limborck  from  Botterdam,  on 
the  26th  of  the  month,  “disturbs  all  my  thoughts,  and 
hinders  that  which  before  all  things  I was  anxious  for— an 
opportunity  of  seeing  you  and  all  my  other  friends  at 
Amsterdam  before  leaving  the  country.  You  cannot  but 
be  aware  of  the  great  advantage  it  would  be  for  me  to 
cross  the  channel,  crowded  as  it  is  just  now  with  ships  of 
war,  and  infested  with  pirates,  in  such  good  company; 
but  this  would  not  induce  me  to  hurry  away  and  leave 
behind  me  the  suspicion  that  I was  unmindful  of  all  your 
affection,  and  of  the  duties  that  I owe  in  return  for  it. 
A stronger  reason  compels  me.  An  English  nobleman  ” 
— evidently  Lord  Mordaunt — “ who  went  hither  with  the 
prince,  has  asked  me  to  take  care  of  his  wife  on  her 
passage,  with  the  princess,  from  the  Hague,  and  I could 
not  do  less  than  accept  the  office.  Neither  she  nor 
I expected  that  we  should  have  to  leave  quite  so  soon. 
We  intended  to  spend  this  week  in  Amsterdam.  But 
you  know  what  has  happened,  and  with  what  incredible 
rapidity  things  are  moving  in  England.  Of  the  pro- 
gress of  these  movements  I was  informed  only  three 
days  ago,  and  I am  as  yet  by  no  means  prepared  for  the 
journey.  It  is  necessity,  not  choice,  that  wall  present  my 


84 


EESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


greeting  and  embracing  you ; that,  I am  sure,  you  will 
believe.” 1 

A westerly  wind  detained  the  princess  at  the  Hague  for 
nearly  a fortnight.  “ I still  thought  I should  be  able  to 
see  you  in  Amsterdam,”  Locke  wrote  again  on  Wednes- 
day, the  6th  of  February  ; “ but  fate  seems  determined  to 
thwart  my  wishes.  First  the  frost,  and  then  my  hurried 
packing-up,  and  now  the  rain,  have  prevented  me.  I 
went  last  Saturday  to  the  Hague,  thinking  I could  induce 
the  lady  of  whom  I have  told  you  to  accompany  me  to 
Amsterdam,  as  we  had  before  intended.  But  a violent 
storm  burst  on  us  at  Delft,  and  lasted  all  the  way  to  the 
Hague,  so  that  when  I got  there  I was  drenched  to  the 
skin,  and  my  friend  not  only  refused  to  go  on  with  me 
the  same  evening,  but  positively  forbade  my  making  the 
journey  myself,  urging  that  I should  be  certain  to  fall  ill 
if  I did  so.  At  the  court  I found  everything  ready  for 
immediate  departure,  and  every  one  so  impatient  of  delay 
that  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  the  princess’s  religious 
scruples  would  hinder  her  from  embarking  even  on  the 
Lord’s  day,  if  the  wind  were  favourable.  I should  have 
presumed  on  those  scruples,  however,  if  I could  have 
succeeded  in  spending  a Sunday  with  you.  But  now  we 
wait  for  nothing  but  the  east  wind.  Last  evening  I re- 
turned hither” — to  Rotterdam,  hardly  more  than  a two 
hours’  ride  from  the  Hague — “ and  know  not  how  long  I 
shall  be  delayed.  I only  know  that  it  is  dreadfully  irksome 
to  wait  here  doing  nothing  and  not  to  be  able  to  do  what 
I so  much  desire. 

“ How  I long,”  he  continued,  “to  spend  just  an  hour 
or  two,  if  no  longer  time  were  possible,  with  you  ! To 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [26  Jan. — j 
5 Feb.,  1688-9. 


1689.  "| 
2Et.  56.  J 


FAEEWELL  LETTEKS  TO  LIMBOBCH. 


85 


see,  to  hear,  to  embrace  one’s  friends,  is  a priceless  joy  to 
me.  Our  affection  for  one  another  needs  no  proof,  and 
it  could  not  he  increased  hy  the  ceremony  of  a farewell ; 
yet  I do  wish  I could  once  more  shake  you  by  the  hand, 
once  more  assure  you  hy  word  of  mouth  that  I am  alto- 
gether yours.  Many  things  tempt  me  home  again ; the 
urgency  of  my  friends  in  England,  the  necessity  of  looking 
after  my  own  neglected  affairs,  and  other  matters.  But 
in  going  awTay  I almost  feel  as  though  I were  leaving  my 
own  country  and  my  own  kinsfolk ; for  everything  that 
belongs  to  kinship,  good-will,  love,  kindness — everything 
that  binds  men  together  with  ties  stronger  than  the  ties 
of  blood — I have  found  among  you  in  abundance.  I leave 
behind  me  Mends  whom  I can  never  forget,  and  I shall 
never  cease  to  wish  for  an  opportunity  of  coming  back  to 
enjoy  once  more  the  genuine  fellowship  of  men  who  have 
been  such  friends  that,  while  far  away  from  all  my  own 
connections,  while  suffering  in  every  other  way,  I have 
never  felt  sick  at  heart.  As  for  you,  you  best  of  men, 
most  dearly  and  most  worthily  beloved,  when  I think  of 
your  learning,  your  wisdom,  your  kindness  and  candour 
and  gentleness,  I seem  to  have  found  in  your  friendship 
alone  enough  to  make  me  always  rejoice  that  I was  forced 
to  pass  so  many  years  among  you.  I know  not  how  such 
a large  portion  of  my  life  could  elsewhere  have  been  spent 
more  pleasantly,  certainly  it  could  not  have  been  spent 
more  profitably.  God  give  you  heaped-up  happiness, 
protect  your  country  and  your  household,  and  enable  you 
to  go  on  in  your  good  work  for  your  church  and  all  good 
men ! To  your  excellent  wfife  and  to  your  children,  to 
the  Yeens  and  the  Guenellons,  and  all  the  rest,  give  my 
kindest  good  wishes  and  my  heartiest  thanks  for  all  the 
services  they  have  rendered  me.  Embrace  them  for  me, 


86 


RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 


[Chap.  IX 


and  tell  them  I can  never  forget  them,  or  their  many, 
many  proofs  of  unselfish  affection.  Farewell,  most 
cherished  of  friends,  and  again  farewell.”  1 

In  company  with  the  Princess  of  Orange  and  Lady 
Mordaunt,  Locke  left  the  Hague  on  the  following  Monday, 
and  next  day,  the  12th  of  February,  he  landed  at  Green- 
wich. He  had  spent  nearly  five  and  a half  years  in 
Holland. 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  325  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  [6 — ] 16  Feb.,  1688-9 


CHAPTER  X. 

“ CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.” 
[1671—1690.] 

HE  most  precious  article  that  Locke  brought  with 


him  Rom  Holland  in  February,  1688-9,  was  the 
manuscript  of  his  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understand- 
ing.’ Frequent  mention  of  this  work  has  been  made  in 
former  pages,  and  it  is  now  time  that  we  should  take 
some  account  of  it  and  of  the  circumstances  of  its  com- 
position and  publication. 

Its  history  extends  over  a long  period  of  Locke’s  life. 
We  have  seen  that  in  or  near  the  year  1671,  he  under- 
took to  direct  the  few  chosen  friends,  like  Tyrrell  and 
Thomas,  and  perhaps  Sydenham  and  Mapletoft,  who 
formed  with  him  a little  club  that  met  at  his  chamber 
in  Exeter  House,  as  to  the  way  of  getting  out  of  “ the 
difficulties  that  rose  on  every  side  ” in  their  discussion 
of  “ a subject  very  remote  from  this  ; ” and  that  he  dated 
from  this  accident  the  origin  of  what,  though  he  himself 
never  so  thought  of  it,  we  must  regard  as  the  most  im- 
portant philosophical  treatise  that  has  been  written  by 
any  Englishman — the  most  important  because  to  it  is 
more  or  less  due  the  writing  of  nearly  every  other  im- 
portant treatise  that  has  since  appeared  — the  most 
important,  too,  because,  however  much  its  doctrines  have 


88 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


(C 


>» 


been  or  may  be  superseded,  nothing  can  lessen  the  influ- 
ence of  its  perfect  honesty  and  truthfulness. 

His  own  too  brief  account  of  this  memorable  accident 
and  its  issue  has  been  already  quoted  in  part,  but  must 
here  be  quoted  in  full.  “ After  we  had  puzzled  ourselves 
without  coming  any  nearer  a resolution  of  those  doubts 
which  perplexed  us,”  he  said,  “ it  came  into  my  thoughts 
that  we  took  a wrong  course,  and  that,  before  we  set  our- 
selves upon  inquiries  of  that  nature,  it  was  necessary 
to  examine  our  abilities,  and  see  what  objects  our  under- 
standings were  or  were  not  fitted  to  deal  with.  This 

proposed  to  the  company,  who  all  readily  assented;  and 
thereupon  it  was  agreed  that  this  should  be  our  first 
inquiry.  Some  hasty  and  undigested  thoughts  on  a 
subject  I had  never  before  considered,  which  I set 
down  against  our  next  meeting,  gave  the  first  entrance 
into  this  discourse,  which,  having  been  thus  begun  by 
chance,  was  continued  by  entreaty,  written  by  incoherent 
parcels,  and  after  long  intervals  of  neglect  resumed  again 
as  my  humour  or  occasions  permitted ; and  at  last,  in  a 
retirement  where  an  attendance  on  my  health  gave  me 
leisure,  it  was  brought  into  that  order  thou  now  seest  it. 
When  I put  pen  to  paper,  I thought  all  I should  have  to 
say  on  this  matter  would  have  been  contained  in  one 
sheet  of  paper,  but  the  farther  I went  the  larger  prospect 
I had ; new  discoveries  led  me  still  on,  and  so  it  grew  to 
the  bulk  it  now  appears  in.”1 

We  have  not  Locke’s  “ hasty  and  undigested  thoughts  ” 
on  the  subject  with  which  he  started,  and  which  had  to 
do  with  “ the  principles  of  morality  and  revealed  reli- 
gion ; ”2  but  we  have  what  is  vastly  more  important  to  us, 

1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  Epistle  to  the  Reader. 

8 Tyrrell’s  note  in  his  copy  of  the  ‘ Essay,’  now  in  the  British  Museum. 


1671.  1 
.a:t.  39. J 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


89 


a rough,  sketch  of  the  doctrines  in  which  he  instructed  his 
friends  in  the  Exeter  House  chamber,  and  ultimately 
instructed  the  world.  In  his  common-place  book  ho 
made  a notable  entry  beginning  thus  : “ Sic  cogitavit  de 
intellectu  humano  Johannes  Locke,  anno  1671.  Intel- 
lectus  humanus  cum  cognitionis  certitudine  et  assensus 
firmitate.  I imagine  that  all  knowledge  is  founded  on, 
and  ultimately  derives  itself  from,  sense  or  something- 
analogous  to  it,  and  may  be  called  sensation,  which  is 
done  by  our  senses  conversant  about  particular  objects, 
which  gives  us  the  simple  ideas  or  images  of  things,  and 
thus  we  come  to  have  ideas  of  heat  and  light,  hard  and 
soft,  which  are  nothing  but  the  reviving  again  in  our 
minds  these  imaginations  which  those  objects,  when  they 
affected  our  senses,  caused  in  us,  whether  by  motion  or 
otherwise  it  matters  not  here  to  consider ; and  thus  we  do 
when  we  conceive  heat  or  light,  yellow  or  blue,  sweet  or 
bitter.  And  therefore  I think  that  those  things  which 
we  call  sensible  qualities  are  the  simplest  ideas  we  have, 
and  the  first  object  of  our  understanding.”  1 

Long  before  1671,  from  the  time  when,  as  an  Oxford 
undergraduate,  he  began  to  study  Descartes,  it  is  clear 
that  Locke  had  thought  much  “ de  intellectu  humano,” 
and  had  gradually  arrived  at  very  distinct  opinions  of  his 
own,  altogether  opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas 
which  Descartes  had  reinforced  with  so  many  new  and 
powerful  arguments.  Before  that  date,  too,  it  is  evident 
that  he  had  become  a diligent  and  wise  student  of  Hobbes, 
and  had  learnt  quite  as  much  from  his  1 Treatise  of 
Human  Nature’  and  his  ‘ Leviathan,’  as  from  the  £ Dis- 
cours de  la  Methode  ’ and  the  ‘Meditationes’  of  Descartes.’ 

1 Lord  King,  p.  6. 

2 It  is  impossible  to  doubt  that,  when  writing  the  paragraph  quoted  above, 

. 

I 

i 


90 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


u 


If  not  before  1671,  moreover,  be  made  in  subsequent 
years  as  wise  and  dibgent  study  of  the  writings  of  other 
men  who  helped  to  make  the  seventeenth  century  famous 


Locke  had  very  clearly  in  kis  mind  the  opinions  of  Hobbes  “ de  intellects 
bumano,”  though  even  then  be  may  have  so  assimilated  and  modified  them, 
and  made  them  bis  own,  that  be  bad  half  forgotten  the  source  from  which 
he  obtained  them.  As  Hobbes  is  not  much  read  now-a-days,  and  as  it  is 
important  that  his  influence  upon  Locke  should  be  understood,  I here 
append  a few  representative  extracts  from  his  writings. 

“The  thoughts  of  man,”  he  said,  “are  every  one  a representation  or 
appearance  of  some  quality  or  other  accident  of  a body  without  us,  which  is 
commonly  called  an  object;  which  object  worketh  upon  the  eyes,  ears  and 
other  parts  of  a man’s  body,  and,  by  diversity  of  working,  produceth  diversity 
of  appearances.  The  original  of  them  all  is  that  which  we  call  sense,  for 
there  is  no  conception  in  a man’s  mind  which  hath  not  at  first,  totally  or  by 
parts,  been  begotten  upon  the  organs  of  sense.  The  rest  are  derived  from 
that  original.”  “ The  cause  of  sense  is  the  external  body  or  object  which 
keepeth  the  organ  proper  to  each  sense,  either  immediately,  as  in  taste  and 
touch,  or  mediately,  as  in  seeing,  hearing  and  smelling  ; which  pressure,  by 
the  mediation  of  the  nerves  and  other  strings  and  membranes  of  the  body, 
continueth  inwards  to  the  brain  and  heart,  and  causeth  there  a resistance 
or  counter-pressure,  or  endeavour  of  the  heart  to  deliver  itself,  which  en- 
deavour, because  outward,  seemeth  to  be  some  matter  without ; and  this 
seeming  or  fancy  is  what  men  call  sense,  and  consisteth,  as  to  the  eye  in  a 
light  or  colour  figured,  to  the  ear  in  a sound,  to  the  nostril  in  an  odour,  to 
the  tongue  and  palate  in  a savour,  and  to  the  rest  of  the  body  in  heat,  cold, 
hardness,  softness,  and  such  other  qualities  as  we  discern  by  feeling : all 
which  qualities,  called  sensible,  are,  in  the  object  that  causeth  them,  but  so 
many  motions  of  the  matter  by  which  it  presseth  our  organs  diversely. 
Neither  in  us  that  are  pressed  are  they  anything  else  but  divers  motions  ; 
for  motion  produceth  nothing  but  motion.  But  their  appearance  to  us  is 
fancy.”  “ But  the  philosophy  schools,  through  all  the  universities  of  Chris- 
tendom, grounded  upon  certain  texts  of  Aristotle,  teach  another  doctrine, 
and  say,  for  the  cause  of  vision,  that  the  thing  seen  sendeth  forth  on  every 
side  a visible  species — in  English,  a visible  show,  apparition  or  aspect,  or 
a being  seen,  the  receiving  whereof  in  the  eye  is  seeing ; and,  for  the  cause 
of  hearing,  that  the  thing  heard  sendeth  forth  an  audible  species,  that  is,  an 
audible  aspect,  which,  entering  at  the  ear,  maketh  hearing  ; nay,  for  the 


1671-87.  1 
m.  39— 55.J 


INDEBTEDNESS  TO  HOBBES. 


91 


for  philosophical  research,  and  yet  more  for  philosophical 
suggestion,  Gassendi  being  the  chief  of  all  these  others, 
and  the  one  to  whom  unquestionably  Locke  owed  most. 

cause  of  understanding  also,  they  say  the  thing  understood  sendeth  forth 
an  intelligible  species,  which,  coming  into  the  understanding,  makes  us 
understand.” — ‘Leviathan,’  part  i.,  ch.  i. 

From  that  bold  and  bald  theory  of  sense,  or,  as  we  should  call  it,  sensation, 
different  altogether  from  the  Aristotelian  view,  Hobbes  proceeded  to  develope 
his  equally  original  theory  of  imagination — what  James  Mill  has  taught  us  to 
call  ideation.  Imagination  he  aptly  defined  as  “the  remains  of  past  sense,” 
“ sense  decaying  or  weakened  by  the  absence  of  the  object.”  (‘  De  Corpore,’ 
ch.  xxv.,  § 7.)  “ That  when  a thing  lies  still,”  he  said,  “ unless  somewhat  else 
stir  it,  it  will  lie  still  for  ever,  is  a truth  that  no  man  doubts  of.  But  that, 
when  a thing  is  in  motion,  it  will  be  eternally  in  motion,  unless  somewhat  else 
stay  it,  though  the  reason  be  the  same,  namely,  that  nothing  can  change  it- 
self, is  not  so  easily  assented  to.  For  men  measure,  not  only  other  men,  but 
all  other  things,  by  themselves ; and,  because  they  find  themselves  subject, 
after  motion,  to  pain  and  lassitude,  think  everything  else  grows  weary  of 
motion  and  seeks  repose  of  its  own  accord,  little  considering  whether  it  be 
not  some  other  motion  wherein  that  desire  of  rest  they  find  in  themselves 
consisteth.  From  hence  it  is  that  the  schools  say  heavy  bodies  fall  down- 
wards out  of  an  appetite  to  rest  and  to  conserve  their  nature  in  that  place 
which  is  most  proper  for  them  ; ascribing  appetite  and  knowledge  of  what  is 
good  for  their  conservation,  which  is  more  than  man  has,  to  things  inanimate, 
absurdly.  When  a body  is  in  motion,  it  moveth,  unless  something  else 
hinder  it,  eternally ; and  whatsoever  hindereth  it  cannot  in  an  instant,  but 
in  time  and  by  degrees,  quite  extinguish  it ; and,  as  we  see  in  the  water, 
though  the  wind  cease,  the  waves  give  not  over  rolling  for  a long  time 
after,  so  also  it  happeneth  in  that  motion  which  is  made  in  the  internal 
parts  of  a man;  for  after  the  object  is  removed,  or  the  eye  shut,  we  still 
retain  an  image  of  the  thing  seen,  though  more  obscure  than  when  we  see 
it.  And  this  is  it  the  Latins  call  imagination,  from  the  image  made  in 
seeing,  and  apply  the  same,  though  improperly,  to  all  the  other  senses ; but 
the  Greeks  call  it  fancy,  which  signifies  appearance,  and  is  as  proper  to  one 
sense  as  to  another.  Imagination,  therefore,  is  nothing  but  decaying  sense.” 
“This  decaying  sense,  when  we  would  express  the  thing  itself,  I mean  fancy 
itself,  we  call  imagination ; but  when  we  would  express  the  decay,  and 
signify  that  the  sense  is  fading,  old,  and  past,  it  is  called  memory.  So  that 


92 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


tl 


>> 


When  he  found  indeed  that  Gassendi,  before  Hobbes’s 
works  were  published,  bad  propounded  and  deduced  from 

imagination  and  memory  are  but  one  thing,  -which  for  divers  considerations 
hath  divers  names.”  (‘  Leviathan,’  part  i.,  ch.  ii.  With  Hobbes’s  explana- 
tion of  memory,’  compare  Descartes’s — that  “ the  pores  of  the  brain  through 
which  the  spirits  before  took  their  entrance  are  more  easily  opened  to  the 
spirits  which  demand  re-entrance,  so  that,  finding  those  pores,  they  make 
their  way  sooner  through  them  than  through  others.”) 

Hobbes  proceeded  to  show  how  and  why  “ much  memory,  or  memory  of 
many  things,  is  called  experience;”  and  how  and  why  imagination  and 
memory  may  be  either  simple,  “ as  when  one  imagineth  a man  or  horse 
which  he  hath  seen  before,”  or  compounded,  “ as  when,  from  the  sight  of  a 
man  at  one  time  and  of  a horse  at  another,  we  conceive  in  our  mind  a 
centaur.”  He  pointed  out  also  that  dreams  are  imaginations,  or  memories, 
more  or  less  distorted ; and  that  when  we  see  apparitions  and  visions, 
“fairies  or  walking  ghosts,”  we  see  them  only  through  some  physical  dis- 
order that  stirs  irregularly  the  organs  by  which,  in  a healthy  state,  true 
impressions  come  to  us.  Finally,  “ the  imagination  that  is  raised  in  man  or 
any  other  creature  endued  with  the  faculty  of  imagination,  by  words  or  other 
voluntary  signs,  is  that  we  generally  call  understanding,  and  is  common  to 
man  and  beast ; for  a dog,  by  custom,  will  understand  the  call  or  the  rating 
of  his  master,  and  so  will  many  other  beasts.”  “ That  understanding  which 
is  peculiar  to  man  is  the  understanding,  not  only  his  will,  but  his  concep- 
tions and  thoughts,  by  the  sequel  and  contexture  of  the  names  of  things 
into  affirmations,  negations  and  other  forms  of  speech.” — ‘ Leviathan,’ 
part  i.,  ch.  ii. 

On  his  basis  of  sensation,  imagination  and  memory,  Hobbes  built  up  his 
theory  of  “ the  consequence  or  train  of  imagination,  called,  to  distinguish 
it  from  discourse  in  words,  mental  discourse,”  which  is  now  known  as  the 
association  of  ideas.  This  mental  discourse  is  at  first  unguided ; the 
thoughts  are  left  to  run  in  any  channel  that  offers  itself.  “ And  yet  in  this 
wild  ranging  of  the  mind  a man  may  ofttimes  perceive  the  way  of  it,  and 
the  dependence  of  one  thought  on  another.  For,  in  a discourse  of  our 
present  civil  war,  what  could  seem  more  impertinent  than  to  ask,  as  one  did, 
what  was  the  value  of  a Koman  penny  ? Yet  the  coherence  to  me  was  mani- 
fest enough : for  the  thought  of  the  war  introduced  the  thought  of  the 
delivering  up  the  king  to  his  enemies ; the  thought  of  that  brought  in  the 
thought  of  the  delivering  up  of  Christ ; and  that  again  the  thought  of  the 


m6aftl]  INDEBTEDNESS  TO  GASSENDI.  93 

Epicurus  many  of  the  doctrines  that  he  had  learnt  from 
Hobbes,  but  in  a form  much  more  to  his  taste,  and 

thirty  pence,  which  was  the  price  of  that  treason  ; and  thence  easily  followed 
that  malicious  question.  And  all  this  in  a moment  of  time  : for  thought  is 
quick.”  Yet  more  wonderful  is  the  train  of  guided  thought,  which  consists 
either  in  seeking  out  the  causes  of  effects  that  are  apparent  to  us,  or  in 
tracing  out  effects  from  causes  under  our  control.  Therein  we  use  remem- 
brance as  to  the  past,  conjecture  as  to  the  future. 

These  are  the  limits  of  human  understanding.  “ Besides  sense  and  thoughts, 
and  the  train  of  thoughts,  the  mind  of  man  has  no  other  motion,  though  by  the 
help  of  speech  and  method  the  same  faculties  may  be  improved  to  such  a height 
as  to  distinguish  men  from  all  other  living  creatures.  Whatsoever  we  imagine 
is  finite.  Therefore  there  is  no  idea  or  conception  of  anything  we  call 
infinite.  No  man  can  have  in  his  mind  an  image  of  infinite  magnitude,  nor 
conceive  infinite  time,  or  infinite  force,  or  infinite  power.  When  we  say 
anything  is  infinite,  we  signify  only  that  we  are  not  able  to  conceive  the 
ends  and  bounds  of  the  things  named  ; having  no  conception  of  the  thing, 
hut  of  our  own  inability.  And  therefore  the  name  of  God  is  used,  not  to 
make  us  conceive  him,  for  he  is  incomprehensible,  and  his  greatness  and 
power  are  unconceivable,  but  that  we  may  honour  him.” — ‘Leviathan,’ 
part  i.,  ch.  iii. 

A few  more  sentences  must  he  quoted.  “ The  remembrance  of  suc- 
cession of  one  thing  to  another,  that  is,  of  what  was  antecedent  and 
what  consequent  and  what  concomitant,  is  called  an  experiment ; 
whether  the  same  be  made  by  us  voluntarily,  as  when  a man  put- 
teth  anything  into  the  fire  to  see  what  effect  the  fire  will  produce 
upon  it ; or  not  made  by  us,  as  when  we  remember  a fair  morning 
after  a red  evening.  To  have  had  many  experiments  is  what  we  call 
experience,  which  is  nothing  else  but  remembrance  of  what  antecedents 
have  been  followed  by  what  consequents.”  “ When  a man  hath  so  often 
observed  like  antecedents  to  be  followed  by  like  consequents,  that  when- 
soever he  seeth  the  antecedent  he  looketh  again  for  the  consequent,  or  when 
he  seeth  the  consequent  maketh  account  there  hath  been  the  like  antecedent, 
then  he  calleth  both  the  antecedent  and  the  consequent  signs  one  of  another, 
as  clouds  are  signs  of  rain  to  come,  and  rain  of  clouds  past.”  “The  signs 
are  but  conjectura  ; and,  according  as  they  have  often  or  seldom  failed,  so 
their  assurance  is  more  or  less,  but  never  full  and  evident.  Experience 
concludeth  nothing  universally.” — ‘ Human  Nature,’  ch.  iv. 


94 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


u 


»> 


separate  from  the  atheism  that  was  always  revolting  to 
him,  he  appears  to  have  repudiated  with  some  unconscious 
injustice  his  debt  to  the  first  English  teacher  of  the 
philosophy  of  experience. 

Through  at  least  sixteen  years  the  ‘ Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding  ’ was  growing  in  Locke’s  mind 
and  in  his  note  books.  Those  note  hooks,  from  which 
a few  characteristic  extracts  have  been  given  in  former 
pages,  show  how  accurate  was  his  statement  that  “ it 
was  written  by  incoherent  parcels;  ” each  new  book  that 
he  read,  each  fresh  person  with  whom  he  conversed,  sug- 
gesting thoughts  that  he  put  on  paper,  to  be  afterwards 
refined  or  rejected  according  to  the  value  that,  on  calm 
consideration,  he  found  in  them.  From  books  he  learnt 
much,  from  persons  more ; his  purpose  being,  not  to 
build  up  a metaphysical  theory,  but  to  ascertain  by  actual 
observation  what  were  the  means  and  methods  by  which 
ordinary  people  acquired  knowledge  and  developed  their 
thinking  faculties.  His  theory  was  “imagined”  in  out- 
line in  1671 ; he  proved  and  elaborated  it  by  personal 
observation.  It  can  only  have  been  in  the  writing  out 
that  there  were  “long  intervals  of  neglect;”  and  he 
was  evidently  more  anxious  to  think  out  than  to  write 
out  his  work. 

Till  late  in  life,  when  the  entreaties  of  his  friends 
prevailed  with  him,  Locke  seems  never  to  have  had  any 
design  of  formally  publishing  his  opinions  to  the  world. 
He  made  no  secrets  of  them.  While  still  a young  man 
he  wrote  elaborate  treatises  like  the  ‘ Essay  concerning 
Toleration  ; ’ and  probably  that  essay  was  not  the  only 
work  that  he  showed  freely  to  men  of  influence  and  in 
public  position,  with  the  distinct  purpose  of  guiding 
legislation  and  the  national  mind.  But  he  preferred  to 


167187.  1 
■ffit  39— 55.  J 


THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


95 


discuss  these  matters  with  his  friends,  to  profit  hy  their 
criticisms,  and  to  make  as  sure  as  might  be  that  his  views 
were  sound  before  he  ventured  to  persuade  others  to 
accept  them.  So  it  was  even — we  might  say  especially — 
with  the  c Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.’ 
Believing  that  he  saw  more  clearly  than  his  neighbours 
how  the  human  intellect  might  he  developed,  he  was 
anxious  to  bias  no  one — least  of  all  ignorant  readers  who 
would  he  apt,  if  their  fancy  prompted  them,  blindly  to 
adopt  his  arguments  without  seeing,  or  being  able  to  see, 
what  real  force  was  in  them — till  he  had  probed  them  to 
the  utmost,  and  subjected  them  to  the  test  of  experience 
and  the  searching  judgment  of  the  wisest  men  whom  he 
knew. 

Most  persons,  when  they  get  hold  of  a new  thought 
which  pleases  them,  are  either  so  charmed  with  it  them- 
selves that  they  unconsciously  shrink  from  carefully 
weighing  it  by  standards  that  might  prove  it  false  and 
worthless,  or  so  eager  for  applause  that  they  purposely 
clothe  it  in  all  the  specious  rhetoric  at  their  command, 
and  glory  in  the  triumph,  not  in  the  truth,  of  their 
dogma.  Locke  cannot  be  placed  in  either  category. 
“ Those  who  have  not  thoroughly  examined  to  the 
bottom  all  their  own  tenets,”  he  said,  “must  confess 
they  are  unfit  to  prescribe  to  others,  and  are  unreasonable 
in  imposing  that  as  truth  on  other  men’s  belief  which 
they  themselves  have  not  searched  into,  nor  weighed  the 
arguments  of  probability  on  which  they  should  receive  or 
reject  it.”1  “ There  is  nobody  in  the  commonwealth  of 

learning,”  he  also  said,  “who  does  not  profess  himself  a 
lover  of  truth  ; and  there  is  not  a rational  creature  that 
would  not  take  it  amiss  to  be  thought  otherwise  of. 

1 * Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xvl,  § 4. 


96 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDEKSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


cc 


99 


And  yet,  for  all  this,  one  may  truly  say  that  there  are 
very  few  lovers  of  truth,  for  truth’s  sake,  even  amongst 
those  who  persuade  themselves  that  they  are  so.  How  a 
man  may  know  whether  he  he  so  in  earnest  is  worth 
inquiry ; and  I think  there  is  one  unerring  mark  of  it, 
namely,  the  not  entertaining  any  proposition  with  greater 
assurance  than  the  proofs  it  is  built  upon  will  warrant. 
Whoever  goes  beyond  this  measure  of  assent,  it  is  plain, 
receives  not  the  truth  in  the  love  of  it — loves  not  truth 
for  truth’s  sake — hut  for  some  other  bye-end..  For  the 
evidence  that  any  proposition  is  true  (except  such  as  are 
self-evident)  lying  only  in  the  proof  a man  has  of  it, 
whatsoever  degrees  of  assent  he  affords  it  beyond  the 
degrees  of  that  evidence,  it  is  plain  that  all  the  surplusage 
of  assurance  is  due  to  some  other  affection,  and  not  to  the 
love  of  truth  ; it  being  as  impossible  that  the  love  of  truth 
should  carry  my  assent  above  the  evidence  there  is  to  me 
that  it  is  true,  as  that  the  love  of  truth  should  make  me 
assent  to  any  proposition,  for  the  sake  of  that  evidence 
which  it  has  not  that  it  is  true ; ■which  is  in  effect  to  love 
it  as  a truth  because  it  is  possible  or  probable  that  it  may 
not  be  true.  Whatsoever  credit  or  authority  we  give  to 
any  proposition  more  than  it  receives  from  the  principles 
and  proofs  it  supports  itself  upon  is  owing  to  our  inclina- 
tions that  way,  and  is  so  far  a derogation  from  the  love 
of  truth  as  such,  which,  as  it  can  receive  no  evidence 
frcfm  our  passions  or  interests,  so  it  should  receive  no 
tincture  from  them.  The  assuming  an  authority  of 
dictating  to  others,  and  a forwardness  to  prescribe  to 
them  opinions,  is  a constant  concomitant  of  this  bias  and 
corruption  of  our  judgments  ; for  how  at  most  can  it  be 
otherwise  but  that  he  should  be  ready  to  impose  on 
another’s  belief  who  has  already  imposed  on  his  own? 


1671-S7.  1 
£t.  39-55. J 


THE  GKOWTH  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


97 


Who  can  reasonably  expect  arguments  and  conviction 
from  him  in  dealing  with  others  whose  understanding 
is  not  accustomed  to  them  in  his  dealing  with  himself, 
who  does  violence  to  his  own  faculties,  tyrannises  over 
his  own  mind,  and  usurps  the  prerogative  that  belongs  to 
truth  alone,  which  is  to  command  assent  by  only  its  own 
authority,  that  is,  by  and  in  proportion  to  that  evidence 
which  it  carries  with  it  ?”  1 

Locke  rigidly  subjected  himself  to  the  canon  that  he 
prescribed  for  others.  Anxious  to  know  what  are  the 
faculties  of  the  human  mind,  and  how  they  may  best  be 
developed,  he  thought  out  the  subject  with  all  the 
attention  he  could  give  it  during  a good  many  years 
before  he  ventured  to  do  more  than  make  occasional 
entries  thereupon  in  his  private  note  hooks  ; after  that 
he  devoted  the  leisure  of  a good  many  other  years  to 
further  consideration  and  note-making  before  he  ventured 
to  build  up  his  thoughts  into  an  orderly  treatise  ; and 
after  that  again  he  pondered  over  the  matter  during  yet 
a good  many  other  years  before  he  ventured  to  give  his 
ripened  conclusions  to  the  world. 

It  is  evident  that  Locke,  having  begun  his  notes  in  or 
near  1671  and  continued  them  at  intervals,  took  them  to 
France  in  1675.  There  he  made  so  many  additions  that 
he  was  able,  writing  to  Thoynard  in  1679,  to  say,  “ I think 
too  well  of  my  book,  which  is  completed,  to  let  it  go  out 
of  my  hands.”2  The  manuscript  did  not  go  out  of  his 
hands  into  those  of  the  public  for  some  time  ; but  he 
showed  it  to  his  friends.  Shaftesbury,  as  we  have  seen, 

1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  xix.,  § § 1,  2.  This 
chapter,  first  included  in  the  fourth  edition,  was  not  written  till  near  the 
and  of  Locke’s  life. 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  28836  ; Locke  to  Thoynard,  6 June,  1679. 

Vol.  II.— 7 


98  “concerning  human  understanding.”  rcHAP.x. 

liad  read  it  before  his  death  in  1683,  and  therefore  not 
later  than  1682,  when  he  saw  the  last  of  Locke,  as  on 
his  death-bed  he  attributed  the  change  in  his  religious 
opinions  to  the  memorable  tenth  chapter  of  its  fourth 
book.  After  that  time,  however,  Locke  certainly  re-wrote, 
and  probably  much  enlarged  it.  It  was  to  the  period  of 
his  residence  in  Holland  that  he  referred  when  he  said 
in  his  prefatory  epistle  to  the  reader,  “In  a retirement 
where  an  attendance  on  my  health  gave  me  leisure,  it 
was  brought  into  that  order  in  which  thou  now  seest  it.” 

It  was  so  far  in  order  that  he  was  able  in  the  autumn 
of  1687  to  prepare  the  epitome  of  it,  which,  translated  into 
French,  was  published  in  the  Bibliotheque  Universelle, 
and  to  send  a portion  of  it  and  apparently  a proof-sheet 
of  the  epitome  to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  with  a request 
that  he  might  dedicate  the  work  to  him.  “ I have 
received  the  second  part,”  Pembroke  wrote  from  London 
in  November,  “and  with  it  the  names  of  all  the  rest  in 
print.  Such  thoughts  need  no  epistle  to  recommend 
them.  I do  not  say  so  to  excuse  my  name  to  it ; for  I 
shall  always  be  as  desirous  by  my  name  to  testify  the 
satisfaction  I have  in  anything  you  are  pleased  to  write, 
as  I am  and  ever  will  be  by  my  person  ready  to  vindicate 
anything  you  do.  But  pray  do  not  let  the  hopes  of 
seeing  this  in  print  defer  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
whole  at  large,  which  I hope  you  will  send  me  as  soon 
as  possibly  you  can.”1 

The  French  version  of  the  epitome,  filling  ninety-two 
pages,  was  published  by  Le  Clerc  in  the  number  of  the 
Bibliotheque  Universelle  for  January,  1687-8,  with  this 
heading,  £ Extrait  d’un  Livre  Anglais  qui  n’est  pas  encore 
publie,  intitule,  Essai  Philosophique  concernantl’Entende- 
1 Lord  King,  p.  158;  Pembroke  to  Locke,  25  Nov.,  1687. 


1671-87.  I 
•£t.  S2-55.J 


THE  GBOWTH  OE  THE  ESSAY, 


99 


rnent,  ou  l’on  montre  quelle  est  l’etendue  de  nos  con- 
naissances  oertaines  et  la  maniere  dont  nous  y parvenons: 
communique  par  Monsieur  Locke.’  “Here,”  wrote  Le 
Clerc  by  way  of  note  to  bis  translation,  “ is  the  outline  of 
an  English  work  which  the  author  has  been  good  enough 
to  publish,  to  oblige  one  of  his  particular  Mends  ” — of 
course  Le  Clerc  himself — “ and  to  give  him  an  outline  of 
his  opinions.  If  any  of  those  who  take  the  trouble  to 
study  it  observe  in  it  any  passage  in  which  the  author 
seems  to  them  to  be  in  error,  or  anything  obscure  or 
incomplete  in  his  scheme,  they  are  requested  to  communi- 
cate their  doubts  or  objections  to  the  printers.  Though 
the  author  is  not  very  anxious  to  publish  his  treatise,  and 
though  he  thinks  he  would  be  wanting  in  respect  to  the 
public  if  he  offered  them  what  satisfied  himself  without 
first  knowing  whether  they  agreed  with  it  or  thought  it 
useful,  yet  he  is  not  so  shy  as  not  to  hope  that  he  will  be 
justified  in  publishing  his  whole  treatise  by  the  reception 
accorded  to  his  abridgment.”1  The  modest  yet  dignified 
purport  of  that  note  was  evidently  suggested  by  Locke,  and 
was  in  keeping  with  the  modest  yet  dignified  temper  that 
had  guided  him  all  through  the  preparation  of  his  work. 

“ This  abridgment,”  Le  Clerc,  who  was  naturally 
proud  of  having  been  the  first  to  introduce  his  friend’s 
bold  arguments  to  the  world,  said  long  afterwards, 
“pleased  a great  many  persons,  and  made  them  desirous 
of  seeing  the  work  at  large ; but  several  who  had  never 
heard  the  name  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  had  only  seen  the 
abridgment  in  the  Bibliotheque  Universelle,  thought  that 
it  was  the  project  of  a work  of  mine  which  was  but  yet 
designed,  and  that  I fastened  it  upon  an  Englishman  to 
know  what  the  world  thought  of  it;  but  they  were  soon 
1 Bibliotheque  Universelle,  vol.  viii.  (1688),  p.  141. 


100 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


U 


»> 


undeceived.  I had  some  copies  of  it  printed  singly,  to 
which  Mr.  Locke  prefixed  a short  dedication  to  the  Earl 
of  Pembroke.”  1 

Locke’s  epitome  of  1687,  of  which  we  have  his  own 
manuscript  copy2  as  well  as  Le  Clerc’s  French  translation, 
shows  that  he  added  some  chapters  and  re-arranged  others 
before  the  essay  itself  was  published  in  1690.  At  least 
one  paragraph  of  the  essay,  as  we  read  in  it,  was  written  on 
the  11th  of  July,  1688, 3 and  in  another  he  speaks  of  “ this 
present  year,  1689.” 4 It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  additions 
and  corrections  were  furnished  up  to  the  time  when  the 
sheets  passed  out  of  his  hands,  just  as  additions  and  cor- 
rections were  made  in  each  of  the  subsequent  editions 
published  in  his  lifetime.  But  the  work  was  substan- 
tially completed  in  1687. 

Locke  made  no  secret  of  the  fragmentary  and  disjointed 
way  in  which  he  originally  worked  out  the  problems 
that,  when  the  whole  had  been  severally  dealt  with,  he 
arranged  in  the  order  that  seemed  to  him  most  suitable 
for  the  presentment  of  his  complete  argument  or  series 
of  arguments. 

“ I must  confess,”  he  wrote  in  his  third  book,  “that 
when  I first  began  this  Discourse  of  the  Understanding, 
I had  not  the  least  thought  that  any  consideration  of 
words  was  at  all  necessary  to  it ; but  when,  having  passed 
over  the  original  and  composition  of  our  ideas,  I began  to 
examine  the  extent  and  certainty  of  our  knowledge,  I 

1 ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke.’  I have  not  been  able  to  meet  with  a copy  of 
this  reprint  and  dedication. 

2 ‘ Lord  King,’  pp.  362 — 398. 

3 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’ b.  iv.,  ch.  xi.,  § 11. 

4 Ibid.,  b.  iv.,  cb.  xiv.,  § 29.  In  b.  ii. , ch.  xv.,  § 8,  however,  Locke 
mentions  1671  as  though  it  were  the  year  in  which  that  section  was  written. 


1671-87.  1 
Mt.  39—  55 J 


THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


101 


found  it  had  so  near  a connection  with  words  that,  unless 
their  force  and  manner  of  signification  were  first  well 
observed,  there  could  he  very  little  said  clearly  and  per- , 
tinently  concerning  knowledge,  which,  being  conversant 
about  truth,  had  constantly  to  do  with  propositions,  and# 
though  it  terminated  in  things,  yet  it  was  for  the  most  part 
so  much  by  the  intervention  of  words,  that  they  seemed 
scarce  separable  from  our  general  knowledge  : at  least, 
they  interpose  themselves  so  much  between  our  under- 
standings and  the  truth  which  it  would  contemplate  and 
apprehend  that,  like  the  medium  through  which  visible 
objects  pass,  their  obscurity  and  disorder  do  not  seldom 
cast  a mist  before  our  eyes  and  impose  upon  our  under- 
standings.”1 

This  and  some  less  important  statements,  together  with 
certain  inferences  that  may  perhaps  be  legitimately  drawn 
from  various  other  passages  and  allusions,  seem  to  show 
that,  after  sketching  out  the  scheme  put  forward  in  the 
introductory  chapter — which,  as  it  stands,  is  hardly  intro- 
ductory to  the  whole  work — Locke  proceeded,  at  starting, 
to  discuss,  in  the  substance  of  what  is  now  the  second 
book,  but  much  less  comprehensively,  “the  original  of  those 
ideas,  notions,  or  whatever  else  you  please  toe>call  them, 
which  a man  observes,  and  is  conscious  to  himself  he  has 
in  his  mind,  and  the  ways  whereby  the  understanding 
comes  to  be  furnished  with  them  that  he  then  began, 
in  what  is  now  the  fourth  book,  “ to  show  what  knowledge 
the  understanding  hath  by  those  ideas,  and  the  certainty, 
evidence,  and  extent  of  it,”  and  “ to  examine  the  nature 
and  grounds  of  faith  or  opinion,  and  the  reasons  and 
degrees  of  assent ; ” but  that,  before  he  had  completed 
that  undertaking,  he  turned  aside  to  prepare  the  wonderful 
1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iii.,  ch.  ix.,  § 21. 


102  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap,  X. 

treatise  on  words  or  language  wliicli  is  now  the  third 
book ; and  that  ultimately  he  wrote  several  additional 
chapters  of  the  second  book,  and,  perhaps  last  of  all,  the 
three  chapters  on  “ innate  principles,”  which,  with  the 
introductory  chapter,  constitute  the  first  book.1 

1 Premising  that  my  study  of  the  phraseology  of  the  essay,  with  this 
special  object,  has  not  been  minute  enough  to  lead  me  to  speak  authorita- 
tively, if  indeed  it  would  he  allowable  in  any  case  to  speak  authoritatively 
about  the  order  of  composition  followed  in  a work  avowedly  “ written  by 
incoherent  parcels,  and,  after  long  intervals  of  neglect,  resumed  again,  as 
humour  or  occasions  permitted,”  I may  briefly  enumerate  the  following 
points  in  support  of  the  suggestion  made  above  : — 

1.  The  beginning  of  book  ii.  is  in  direct  continuation  of  book  i.,  ch.  i. 
The  latter  ends  thus  : “I  presume  it  will  be  easily  granted  me  that  there 
are  such  ideas  in  men’s  minds.  Every  one  is  conscious  of  them  in  himself, 
and  men’s  words  and  actions  will  satisfy  him  that  they  are  in  others.  Our 
first  inquiry  then  shall  be  how  they  come  into  the  mind.”  Book  ii.,  ch.  i.,  is 
‘ Of  Ideas  in  General  and  their  Original,’  and  thus  commences  : “ Every  man 
being  conscious  to  himself  that  he  thinks,  ....  it  is  in  the  first  place  to  be 
inquired  how  he  comes  by  them,”  i.e.,  his  ideas. 

2.  That  book  iv.  was  begun  before  book  iii.  is  clear  from  the  passage 
quoted  in  the  text.  This,  if  it  needs  confirmation,  may  be  slightly  confirmed 
by  a comparison  between  book  iv.,  ch.  iii.,  § 18  (also  bookiv.,cli.  xii.,  § 8) 
and  book  iii.,  ch.  xi.,  § 16. 

3.  At  least  one  part  of  book  iv.  was  written  before  one  part  of  book  ii. 
Speaking  of  ideas  of  duration  in  book  ii.,  ch.  xvii.,  § 5,  Locke  says,  “He 
that  considers  something  now  existing  must  necessarily  come  to  something 
eternal.  But  having  spoke  of  this  in  another  place,  I shall  here  say  no  more 
of  it.”  The  “ other  place  ” is  book  iv.,  ch.  x.,  § 3. 

4.  It  seems  to  have  been  Locke’s  invariable  rule  to  clear  his  ground  as  he 
went  along,  never  to  assume  as  proved  anything  that  he  intended  afterwards 
to  prove  or  try  to  prove.  To  this  rule,  I know  of  no  exceptions  in  his 
argumentative  writings  out  of  the  essay,  whereas  instances  are  numerous 
there,  all  tending  to  show,  as  I think,  that  book  iv.  was  substantially  written 
at  an  early  date  (ch.  x.  at  any  rate,  as  has  been  noted  in  the  text,  was  written 
before  1683,  when  Shaftesbury  referred  to  it  on  his  death-bed),  and  the  last 
three  chapters  of  book  i.  last,  or  nearly  last,  of  all.  Without  taking  up  too 
nuch  space  with  quotations,  I may  refer  the  curious  reader  for  such  allusions 


.ffit.S55.]  THE  PURPOSE  AND  METHOD  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


103 


But  we  must  look  at  Locke’s  arguments  in  the  order  in 
which  he  chose  to  publish  them. 


The  purpose  of  the  * Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  as 
Locke  announced  in  his  introductory  chapter,  was  “to  inquire  into  the 
original,  certainty  and  extent  of  human  knowledge,  together  with  the 
grounds  and  degrees  of  belief,  opinion  and  assent.”  “ In  order  whereunto,” 
he  said,  “I  shall  pursue  this  following  method.  First,  I shall  inquire  into 
the  original  of  those  ideas,  notions,  or  whatever  else  you  please  to  call  them, 
which  a man  observes  and  is  conscious  to  himself  he  has  in  his  mind ; and 
the  ways  whereby  the  understanding  comes  to  be  furnished  with  them. 
Secondly,  I shall  endeavour  to  show  what  knowledge  the  understanding 
hath  by  those  ideas,  and  the  certainty,  evidence  and  extent  of  it.  Thirdly, 
I shall  make  some  inquiry  into  the  nature  and  grounds  of  faith  or  opinion ; 
whereby  I mean  that  assent  which  we  give  to  any  proposition  as  true,  of 
whose  truth  yet  we  have  no  certain  knowledge ; and  here  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  examine  the  reasons  and  degrees  of  assent.”  1 


and  assumptions  to  book  i.,  ch.  ii. , §§  1,  10,  11,  12,  16,  18,  23,  27,  28,  and 
book  i.,  ch.  iv.,  § § 13,  21.  Book  i.,  ch.  iv.,  § 1,  assumes  the  whole  argu- 
ment of  book  ii. 

5.  The  extracts  made  from,  and  the  references  to,  Thevenot  and  other 
travellers  in  book  i.,  ch.  iii. , show  that  this  chapter  at  any  rate  could  not 
have  been  written  till  after  Locke  had  studied  their  works.  Locke  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Thevenot  while  in  Paris,  and  after  that  was  reading  Theve- 
not’s  books,  and  communicating  with  him  about  barbaric  customs.  But  I 
have  given  reasons  for  supposing  that  a large  part  of  the  essay  was  written 
at  Montpellier,  before  Locke  went  to  reside  in  Paris. 

1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i.,  ch.  i.,  §§  2,  3.  The 
following  references  are  to  the  fourth  (the  last  edited  by  Locke  himself) 
and  subsequent  editions.  In  the  earlier  editions,  in  consequence  of  his  inter- 
polations, the  numbering  of  both  chapters  and  sections  is  sometimes 
different.  Except  in  one  or  two  cases  which  will  be  noted,  I have,  how- 
ever, in  this  chapter,  quoted  exclusively  from  the  first  edition,  my  desire 
being  to  give  some  account  of  his  opinions  at  this  time.  A tew  later  addi- 
tions will  he  described  in  their  chronological  order. 


104  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  x. 

“If  by  this  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  understanding,”  he  added,  “I 
can  discover  the  powers  thereof,  how  far  they  reach,  to  what  things  they 
are  in  any  degree  proportionate,  and  where  they  fail  us,  I suppose  it  may  be 
of  use  to  prevail  with  the  busy  mind  of  man  to  be  more  cautious  in  meddling 
with  things  exceeding  its  comprehension,  to  stop  when  it  is  at  the  utmost 
extent  of  its  tether,  and  to  sit  down  in  a quiet  ignorance  of  those  things 
which,  upon  examination,  are  found  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  our  capaci- 
ties. We  should  not  then,  perhaps,  be  so  forward,  out  of  an  affectation  of 
an  universal  knowledge,  to  raise  questions,  and  perplex  ourselves  and  others 
with  disputes,  about  things  to  which  our  understandings  are  not  suited,  and 
of  which  we  cannot  frame  in  our  minds  any  clear  or  distinct  perceptions,  or 
whereof  (as  it  has  perhaps  too  often  happened)  we  have  not  any  notions 
at  all.  If  we  can  find  out  how  far  the  understanding  can  extend  its  view, 
how  far  it  has  faculties  to  attain  certainty,  and  in  what  cases  it  can  only 
judge  and  guess,  we  may  learn  to  content  ourselves  with  what  is  attainable 
by  us  in  this  state.”  1 

The  excellent  meaning  of  those  sentences  must  not  be  lost  sight  of. 
Locke  never  varied  in  his  assertion  that  truth  is  the  noblest  pursuit  of  man; 
but  he  held  that  truth  is  only  to  be  attained  by  knowledge,  and  knowledge 
by  intelligence  or  understanding.  Let  us  do  all  we  can,  he  said  in  effect, 
to  find  out  what  we  can  understand,  and,  as  a preliminary  thereto,  how 
we  can  understand.  Let  us  study  the  anatomy  of  our  minds,  their  original 
nature  and  composition,  their  capacities  for  expansion  and  development,  and 
the  best  ways  of  expanding  and  developing  them.  Unless  we  do  that,  we 
shall  not  know  what  material  we  are  working  with  or  what  work  it  is  fit  for. 
But  when  that  is  done,  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  do  it,  we  must  take  care  that 
we  make  right  use  of  our  minds.  Let  us  always  remember  that  they  can 
only  be  used  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  that  we  are  bound  to  store 
them  with  all  the  knowledge  they  are  capable  of ; and  also,  that  it  is  not 
possible  to  store  them  with  knowledge  for  which  they  have  not  capacities, 
and  that  to  attempt  to  do  this  is  as  useless  and  injurious  as  to  abstain  from 
supplying  them  with  such  knowledge  as  they  have  power  to  apprehend. 
We  can  know  nothing  that  we  do  not  understand,  and  they  alone  are  philo- 
sophers who  educate  themselves  into  avoidance  of  the  unknowable  as  well 
as  into  acquisition  of  that  which  can  be  known.  There  is  a “ quiet  igno- 
rance ” to  which  the  wisest  men  must  resign  themselves,  just  as  there  is  a 
quiet  ignorance  “ with  which  none  but  fools  will  be  content.”  The  old-world 
sophists,  whether  pre-Socratic  or  post-Aristotelian,  who  professed  to  know 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i.,  ch.  i. , § 4. 


THE  PURPOSE  and  method  of  the  essay. 


105 


everything,  strayed  as  far  from  the  paths  of  wisdom  as  the  mindless  sensual- 
ists whose  whole  theory  of  life  was  expressed  in  the  motto,  “Let  us  eat  and 
drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die.”  The  modern  disciples  of  Duns  Scotus  and 
Thomas  Aquinas,  who,  each  in  their  own  rival  ways,  undertook  to  solve  all 
the  secrets  of  the  universe,  were  as  impotent  instructors  as  they  who  taught 
that  there  were  no  secrets  in  the  universe  to  be  solved.  If  we  would  make 
good  use  of  our  intellects,  we  must  find  out  their  strength  and  capacity,  and, 
while  learning  all  we  can,  steer  clear  of  what  cannot  be  learned. 

“When  we  know  our  own  strength,”  said  Locke,  “we  shall  the  better 
know  what  to  undertake  with  hopes  of  success  ; and  when  we  have  well 
surveyed  the  powers  of  our  own  minds,  and  made  some  estimate  what  we 
may  expect  from  them,  we  shall  not  be  inclined  either  to  sit  still  and  not 
set  our  thoughts  on  work  at  all,  in  despair  of  knowing  anything,  or,  on  the 
other  side,  question  everything  and  disclaim  all  knowledge  because  some 
things  are  not  to  be  understood.  It  is  of  great  use  to  the  sailor  to  know  the 
length  of  his  line,  though  he  cannot  with  it  fathom  all  the  depths  of  the 
ocean.  It  is  well  he  knows  that  it  is  long  enough  to  reach  the  bottom  at 
such  places  as  are  necessary  to  direct  his  voyage  and  caution  him  against 
running  upon  shoals  that  may  ruin  him.  Our  business  here  is  not  to  know 
all  things,  but  those  which  concern  our  conduct.  If  we  can  find  out  those 
measures  whereby  a rational  creature,  put  in  that  state  in  which  man  is  in 
this  world,  may  and  ought  to  govern  his  opinions,  and  actions  depending 
thereon,  we  need  not  to  be  troubled  that  some  other  things  escape  our 
knowledge.”  We  must  not  expect  to  understand  everything ; but  we  are 
bound  to  understand  all  we  can.  “ It  will  be  no  excuse  to  an  idle  and  unto- 
ward servant,  who  would  not  attend  his  business  by  candle-light,  to  plead 
that  he  had  not  broad  sunshine.  The  candle  that  is  set  in  us  shines  bright 
enough  for  all  our  purposes.”  “ If  we  will  disbelieve  everything  because  we 
cannot  certainly  know  all  things,  we  shall  do  much-what  as  wisely  as  he 
who  would  not  use  his  legs,  but  sit  still  and  perish,  because  he  had  no  wings 
to  fly.”  1 

Having  thus  explained  the  scope  and  purport  of  the  discussion  on  which 
he  proposed  to  embark,  Locke,  before  proceeding  to  the  discussion  itself, 
interpolated  three  chapters  on  innate  principles.  He  had  to  disprove  the 
erroneous  opinions  that  were  in  vogue  before  he  could  build  up  his  own  system 
of  intellectual  activity.  “ To  clear  my  way,”  he  said,  “ to  those  foundations 
which  I conceive  are  the  only  true  ones  whereon  to  establish  those  notions  we 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i. , ch.  i.,  §§  6,  5. 


106 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


« t 


>1 


can  have  of  our  own  knowledge,  it  hath  been  necessary  for  me  to  give  an 
account  of  the  reasons  I had  to  doubt  of  innate  principles.  And  since  the 
arguments  which  are  against  them  do  some  of  them  rise  from  common  received 
opinions,  I have  been  forced  to  take  several  things  for  granted,  which  is  hardly 
avoidable  to  any  one  whose  task  is  to  show  the  falsehood  or  improbability  of 
any  tenet ; it  happening  in  controversial  discourses  as  it  does  in  assaulting  of 
towns,  where,  if  the  ground  be  but  firm  whereon  the  batteries  are  erected, 
there  is  no  farther  inquiry  of  whom  it  is  borrowed  nor  whom  it  belongs  to, 
so  it  affords  but  a fit  rise  for  the  present  purpose.”  1 Locke  only  borrowed 
from  himself  the  groundwork  that  he  had  done  his  best  to  establish  in  the 
later,  but  apparently  earlier  written  portions  of  his  work. 

“ There  is  nothing  more  commonly  taken  for  granted,”  he  said,  referring 
especially  to  the  Cartesians,  and  generally  to  the  great  majority  of  theolo- 
gians, “ than  that  there  are  certain  principles,  both  speculative  and  practical 
(for  they  speak  of  both),  universally  agreed  upon  by  all  mankind,  which 
therefore,  they  argue,  must  needs  be  constant  impressions,  which  the  souls 
of  men  receive  in  their  first  beings,  and  which  they  bring  into  the  world 
with  them,  as  necessarily  and  really  as  they  do  any  of  their  inherent  facul- 
ties.” 2 This  assumption  he  proceeded  to  controvert  with  care  and  skill 
that  were  not  wasted  in  his  own  day,  seeing  that  he  had  all  the  pseudo-Aris- 
totelian schoolmen  and  their  benighted  successors,  as  well  as  all  the  Carte- 
sians, to  contend  against.  But  his  arguments  on  this  score  are  now  chiefly 
noteworthy  as  antique  weapons  which  did  good  service  in  their  own  day, 
but  for  which  the  need  has  almost  passed  away.  In  the  course  of  his  argument, 
however,  he  took  occasion  to  give  an  excellent  summary  of  his  own  theory 
as  to  the  way  in  which  knowledge  is  acquired. 

“ The  senses  at  first  let  in  particular  ideas,”  he  said,  “ and  furnish  the 
yet  empty  cabinet,  and,  the  mind  by  degrees  growing  familiar  with  some  of 
them,  they  are  lodged  in  the  memory,  and  names  got  to  them.  Afterwards 
the  mind,  proceeding  farther,  abstracts  them,  and  by  degrees  learns  the  use 
of  general  names.  In  this  manner  the  mind  comes  to  he  furnished  with  ideas 
and  language,  the  materials  about  which  to  exercise  its  discursive  faculty ; 
and  the  use  of  reason  becomes  more  visible  as  these  materials  that  give  it 
employment  increase.  But,  though  the  having  of  general  ideas  and  the  use 
of  general  words  and  reason  usually  grow  together,  yet  I see  not  how  this 
any  way  proves  them  innate.  The  knowledge  of  some  truths,  I confess,  is 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i.,  ch.  iv.,  § 25. 

8 Ibid.,  b.  i.,  ch.  ii.,  § 2. 


it.S55.]  SO  CALLED  “ INNATE  PRINCIPLES.”  107 

very  early  in  the  mind,  but  in  a way  that  shows  them  not  to  be  innate.  For, 
if  we  will  observe,  we  shall  find  it  still  to  be  about  ideas  not  innate  but 
acquired  ; it  being  about  those  first  which  are  imprinted  by  external  things, 
with  which  infants  have  earliest  to  do,  which  make  the  most  frequent  im- 
pressions on  them  senses.  In  the  ideas  thus  got  the  mind  discovers  that 
some  agree  and  others  differ,  probably  as  soon  as  it  has  any  use  of  memory, 
as  soon  as  it  is  able  to  retain  and  perceive  distinct  ideas.  But  whether  it 
be  then  or  no,  this  is  certain,  it  does  so  long  before  it  has  the  use  of  words,  or 
comes  to  that  which  we  commonly  call  ‘ the  use  of  reason.’  For  a child 
knows  as  certainly  before  it  can  speak  the  difference  between  the  ideas  of 
sweet  and  bitter  (that  is,  that  sweet  is  not  bitter)  as  it  knows  afterwards, 
when  it  comes  to  speak,  that  wormwood  and  sugar  plums  are  not  the  same 
thing.  A child  knows  not  that  three  and  four  are  equal  to  seven  till  he  comes 
to  be  able  to  count  seven,  and  has  got  the  name  and  idea  of  equality ; and 
then,  upon  explaining  those  words,  he  presently  assents  to,  or  rather  per- 
ceives the  truth  of,  that  proposition.  But  neither  does  he  then  readily  assent 
because  it  is  an  innate  truth,  nor  was  his  assent  wanting  till  then  because  he 
wanted  the  use  of  reason  ; but  the  truth  of  it  appears  to  him  as  soon  as  he 
has  settled  in  his  mind  the  clear  and  distinct  ideas  that  these  names  stand 
for  ; and  then  he  knows  the  truth  of  that  proposition  upon  the  same  grounds, 
and  by  the  same  means,  that  he  knew  before  that  a rod  and  a cherry  are  not 
the  same  thing,  and  upon  the  same  grounds  also  that  he  may  come  to  know 
afterwards  that  ‘ it  is  impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be.’  ” 1 
“These  characters,”  Locke  urged  further,  “if  they  were  native  and 
original  impressions,  should  appear  fairest  and  clearest  in  whom  we  find  no 
footsteps  of  them  ; and  it  is,  in  my  opinion,  a strong  presumption  that  they 
are  not  innate,  since  they  are  least  known  to  those  in  whom,  if  they  were 
innate,  they  must  needs  exert  themselves  with  most  force  and  vigour.  For 
children,  idiots,  savages,  illiterate  people,  being  of  all  others  the  least  cor- 
rupted by  custom  or  borrowed  opinions — learning  and  education  having  not 
cast  their  native  thoughts  into  new  moulds,  nor,  by  superinducing  foreign  or 
studied  doctrines,  confounded  those  fair  characters  nature  had  written  there 
— one  might  reasonably  imagine  that  in  their  minds  these  innate  notions 
should  lie  open  fairly  to  every  one’s  view,  as  it  is  certain  the  thoughts  of 
children  do.  It  might  very  well  be  expected  that  these  principles  should 
be  perfectly  known  to  naturals,  which,  being  immediately  stamped  on  the 
soul  (as  these  men  suppose),  can  have  no  dependence  on  the  constitutions  or 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i.,  ch.ii.,  §§  15,  16. 


108 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


5 J 

organs  of  the  body,  the  only  confessed  difference  between  them  and  others. 
One  would  think,  according  to  these  men’s  principles,  that  all  these  native 
beams  of  light,  were  there  any  such,  should  in  those  who  have  no  reserves, 
no  arts  of  concealment,  shine  out  in  their  full  lustre,  and  leave  us  in  no  more 
doubt  of  their  being  there  than  we  are  of  their  love  of  pleasure  and  abhor- 
rence of  pain.  But,  amongst  children,  idiots,  savages,  and  the  grossly 
illiterate,  what  general  maxims  are  to  be  found  ? What  universal  principles 
of  knowledge  ? Their  notions  are  few  and  narrow,  borrowed  only  from  those 
objects  they  have  most  to  do  with,  and  which  have  made  upon  their  senses 
the  frequentest  and  strongest  impressions.  A child  knows  his  nurse  and  his 
cradle,  and,  by  degrees,  the  playthings  of  a little  more  advanced  age  ; and  a 
young  savage  has,  perhaps,  his  head  filled  with  love  and  hunting,  according 
to  the  fashion  of  his  tribe ; but  he  that  from  a child  untaught,  or  a wild 
inhabitant  of  the  woods,  will  expect  abstract  maxims  and  reputed  principles 
of  science,  will,  I fear,  find  himself  mistaken.  Such  kind  of  general  pro- 
positions are  seldom  mentioned  in  the  huts  of  Indians,  much  less  are  they  to 
be  found  in  the  thoughts  of  children,  or  any  impression  of  them  on  the  minds 
of  naturals.  They  are  the  language  and  business  of  the  schools  and  academies 
of  learned  nations,  accustomed  to  that  sort  of  conversation  or  learning,  where 
disputes  are  frequent.”  “ And  if  the  first  principles  of  knowledge  and  science 
are  found  not  to  be  innate,  no  other  speculative  maxim  can,  I suppose,  with 
better  right  pretend  to  be  so.”  1 

Proving  first  that  no  speculative  or  intellectual  principles  or  propositions 
are  innate,  Locke  went  on  to  prove  by  the  same  line  of  argument  that  there 
is  no  warrant  for  asserting  that  any  moral  or  practical  principles  or  proposi- 
tions are  innate.  There  are  no  moral  rules,  he  declared,  which  men  obey  unless 
they  are  taught  to  do  so  by  others,  and  unless  they  learn  their  propriety  from 
their  own  experience.  “ Justice  and  keeping  of  contracts  is  that  which  most 
men  seem  to  agree  in  ; ” but  what  man  is  faithful  or  just  who  has  not  first 
discovered  or  fancied  he  has  discovered  the  expediency  of  faithfulness  and 
justice?  “If  a Christian  who  has  the  view  of  happiness  and  misery  in 
another  life,  be  asked  why  a man  must  keep  his  word,  he  will  give  this  as 
his  reason,  ‘Because  God,  who  has  the  power  of  eternal  life  and  death,  requires 
it  of  us.’  If  a Hobbist  be  asked  why,  he  will  answer,  ‘ Because  the  public 
requires  it,  and  the  Leviathan  will  punish  you  if  you  do  not.’  And,  if  one  ot 
the  old  philosophers  had  been  asked,  he  would  have  answered,  ‘ Because 
it  is  dishonest,  below  the  dignity  of  a man,  and  opposite  to  virtue,  the 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i.,  ch.  ii.,  §§  27,  28. 


ifk]  so  CALLED  “INNATE  PRINCIPLES.”  109 

highest  perfection  of  human  nature,  to  do  otherwise.’  Hence  naturally  flows 
the  great  variety  of  opinions  concerning  moral  rules  which  are  to  be  found 
among  men,  according  to  the  different  sorts  of  happiness  they  have  a pros- 
pect of,  or  propose  to  themselves  ; which  could  not  be,  if  practical  principles 
were  innate  and  imprinted  in  our  minds  immediately  by  the  hand  of  God.”  1 
Universal  consent,  Locke  urged,  would  not  in  itself  be  a sufficient  argument 
for  the  innateness  of  any  moral  rule  that  could  be  propounded  ; but  it  is  the 
only  argument  adduced,  and,  since  there  is  not  a single  moral  rule  that  does 
obtain  universal  consent,  the  plea  for  its  innateness  is  altogether  unsupported. 

“ When  men  have  found  some  general  propositions  that  could  not  be 
doubted  of  as  soon  as  understood,”  he  said,  in  concluding  his  preliminary 
discourse,  “ it  was,  I know,  a short  and  easy  way  to  conclude  them  innate. 
This  being  once  received,  it  eased  the  lazy  from  the  pains  of  search,  and 
stopped  the  inquiry  of  the  doubtful  concerning  all  that  was  once  styled 
innate  ; and  it  was  of  no  small  advantage  to  those  who  affected  to  be  masters 
and  teachers,  to  make  this  the  principle  of  principles,  ‘ that  principles  must 
not  be  questioned for  having  once  established  this  tenet,  that  there  are 
innate  principles,  it  put  their  followers  upon  a necessity  of  receiving  some 
doctrines  as  such  ; which  was  to  take  them  off  from  the  use  of  their  own 
reason  and  judgment,  and  put  them  upon  believing  and  taking  them  upon 
trust,  without  farther  examination  : in  which  posture  of  blind  credulity  they 
might  be  more  easily  governed  by,  and  made  useful  to,  some  sort  of  men, 
who  had  the  skill  and  office  to  principle  and  guide  them.  Nor  is  it  a small 
power  he  gives  one  man  over  another,  to  have  the  authority  to  be  the  dictator 
of  principles  and  teacher  of  unquestionable  truths,  and  to  make  a man  swallow 
that  for  an  innate  principle,  which  may  serve  to  his  purpose  who  teacheth 

I them.  Whereas,  had  they  examined  the  ways  whereby  men  came  by  the 
knowledge  of  many  universal  truths,  they  would  have  found  them  to  result 
in  the  minds  of  men  from  the  being  of  things  themselves,  when  duly  con- 
sidered ; and  that  they  were  discovered  by  the  application  of  those  faculties 
that  were  fitted  by  nature  to  receive  and  judge  of  them  when  duly  employed 
about  them.”  2 

In  that  first  and  introductory  book,  Locke,  as  he  said,  “ endeavoured  to 
prove  that  the  mind  is  at  first  tabula  rasa,”  and  incidentally  pointed  out  the 
mischievous  effects  of  any  other  view.  In  the  other  three  books  he  under- 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  i.,  ch.  iii. , § § 2,5,  6. 

* Ibid.,  b.  i.,  ch.  iv.,  § 24. 


110  “ CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  X. 

took  to  show  “ the  original  from  whence,  and  the  ways  whereby,  we  receivo 
all  the  ideas  our  understandings  are  employed  about  in  thinking.”  1 

The  origin  of  all  our  ideas,  he  maintained,  is  experience : “ in  that  all  our 
knowledge  is  founded,  and  from  that  it  ultimately  derives  itself.”  And  the 
two  channels  by  which  experience  is  acquired  and  knowledge  is  formed  are 
sensation  and  reflection.  The  one  includes  every  idea  received  directly 
through  our  senses,  like  those  of  colour,  taste,  and  sound ; and  these  vary 
according  to  the  experience  of  the  individual,  a child  who  has  never  seen 
anything  but  black  and  white  having  “ no  more  ideas  of  scarlet  or  green  than 
he  that  from  his  childhood  never  tasted  an  oyster  or  a pineapple  has  of  those 
particular  relishes,”  and  a person  born  blind  having  no  idea  at  all  of  light  or 
colour.  The  other  includes  all  the  ideas  built  up  by  reflection  upon,  or 
association  of,  the  crude  ideas  of  sensation.2 

“ If  it  shall  be  demanded,  then,  when  a man  begins  to  have  any  ideas,  I 
think  the  true  answer  is,  when  he  first  has  any  sensation.  For  since  there 
appear  not  to  he  any  ideas  in  the  mind  before  the  senses  have  conveyed  any 
in,  I conceive  that  ideas  in  the  understanding  are  coeval  with  sensation  : 
which  is  such  an  impression  or  motion,  made  in  some  part  of  the  body,  as 
produces  some  perception  in  the  understanding.  In  time  the  mind  comes 
to  reflect  on  its  own  operations  about  the  ideas  got  by  sensation,  and  thereby 
stores  itself  with  a new  set  of  ideas,  which  I call  ideas  of  reflection.  These 
are  the  impressions  that  are  made  on  our  senses  by  outward  objects  that 
are  extrinsical  to  the  mind,  and  its  own  operations,  proceeding  from  powers  in- 
trinsical  and  proper  to  itself ; which,  when  reflected  on  by  itself,  becoming  also 
objects  of  its  contemplation,  are,  as  I have  said,  the  original  of  all  knowledge. 
Thus  the  first  capacity  of  human  intellect  is,  that  the  mind  is  fitted  to  receive 
the  impressions  made  on  it,  either  through  the  senses,  by  outward  objects,  or 
by  its  own  operations,  when  it  reflects  on  them.  This  is  the  first  step  a man 
makes  towards  the  discovery  of  anything,  and  the  ground-work  whereon  to 
build  all  those  notions  which  ever  he  shall  have  naturally  in  this  world.  All 
those  sublime  thoughts  which  tower  above  the  clouds,  and  reach  as  high  as 
heaven  itself,  take  their  rise  and  footing  here  : in  all  that  good  extent  wherein 
the  mind  wanders,  in  those  remote  speculations  it  may  seem  to  be  elevated 
with,  it  stirs  not  one  jot  beyond  those  ideas  which  sense  or  reflection  have 
offered  for  its  contemplation.”  3 

1 The  abstract  written  in  1687,  and  printed  by  Lord  King,  p.  362. 

8 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  i.,  §§  2 — 9,  20 — 22. 

3 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  ch.  i.,  §§  23,  24. 


1687.  1 
iEt.  55. J 


THE  ORIGIN  AND  FORMATION  OF  IDEAS. 


Ill 


Locke  was  more  careful  in  his  definition  than  in  his  practice  to  distinguish 
between  ideas  and  their  causes.  “ Whatsoever  immediate  object,  whatsoever 
perception,  be  in  the  mind  when  it  thinks,  that  I call  idea ; and  the  power 
to  produce  any  idea  in  the  mind  I call  quality  of  the  subject  wherein  that 
power  is.  Thus,  whiteness,  coldness,  roundness,  as  they  are  sensations  or 
perceptions  in  the  understanding,  I call  ideas ; as  they  are  in  the  snowball 
which  has  the  power  to  produce  these  ideas  in  the  understanding,  I call 
qualities.  The  original  qualities  that  may  be  observed  in  bodies  are  solidity, 
extension,  figure,  number,  motion,  or  rest;  these,  in  whatsoever  state  body 
is  put,  are  always  inseparable  from  it.”  1 The  ideas  produced  by  these 
primary  qualities  are,  he  said,  resemblances.  Secondary  qualities,  not  pro- 
ducing ideas  by  resemblance,  are  of  two  sorts.  The  first,  “ usually  called 
sensible  qualities,”  are  “ the  power  that  is  in  every  body,  by  reason  of  its 
sensible  primary  qualities,  to  operate  after  a peculiar  manner  on  any  of 
our  senses,  and  thereby  produce  in  us  the  different  ideas  of  several  colours, 
sounds,  smells,  tastes,  etc.”  The  second,  “usually  called  powers,”  consist 
in  “ the  power  that  is  in  any  body,  by  reason  of  the  particular  constitution 
of  its  primary  qualities,  to  make  such  a change  in  the  bulk,  figure,  texture, 
and  motion  of  another  body  as  to  make  it  operate  on  our  senses  differently 
from  what  it  did  before ; thus  the  sun  has  a power  to  make  wax  white,  and 
fire  to  make  lead  fluid.”2 

Locke’s  explanation  of  the  way  in  which  simple  ideas  of  sensation  enter 
the  mind  was  not  satisfactory.  “ Bodies  operate  upon  one  another  by  im- 
pulse,” he  said  ; “ I can  conceive  no  other  way.  When,  then,  they  produce 
in  us  the  ideas  of  any  of  their  original  qualities  which  are  really  in  them — 
let  us  suppose  that  of  extension  or  figure  by  the  sight — it  is  evident  that, 
the  thing  seen  being  at  a distance,  the  impulse  made  on  the  organ  must  be 
by  some  insensible  particles  coming  from  the  object  to  the  eyes,  and,  by  a 
continuation  of  that  motion  to  the  brain,  those  ideas  are  produced  in  us. 
For  the  producing,  then,  of  the  ideas  of  these  original  qualities  in  our  under- 
standings, we  can  find  nothing  but  the  impulse  and  motion  of  some  insensible 
bodies.  By  the  same  way  we  may  also  conceive  how  the  ideas  of  the  colour 
and  smell  of  a violet  may  as  well  be  produced  in  us  as  of  its  figure,  namely, 
by  a certain  impulse,  on  our  eyes  and  noses,  of  particles  of  such  a bulk, 
figure,  number,  and  motion  as  those  that  come  from  violets  when  we  see  or 
smell  them,  and  by  the  particular  motion  received  in  the  organ  and  continued 


1 The  abstract  printed  by  Lord  King,  p.  365. 

* ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  viii. , § 23. 


112 


CONCERNING  IIUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


CC 


11 


to  the  brain  ; it  being  no  more  impossible  to  conceive  that  God  should  annex 
such  ideas  to  such  motions  with  which  they  have  no  similitude,  than  that  he 
should  annex  the  idea  of  pain  to  the  motion  of  a piece  of  steel  dividing  our 
flesh,  with  which  that  idea  has  also  no  resemblance.”1  This  notion  of 
“impulses”  involves  contradictions  of  the  teachings  of  modern  science, 
both  physical  and  physiological,  which  were  not  apparent  to  Locke  and  his 
disciples,  still  less  to  his  opponents  in  his  own  day.  In  assuming,  moreover, 
not  only  that  “ it  is  possible  to  conceive  that  God  should  annex  certain  ideas 
to  certain  motions  with  which  they  have  no  similitude,”  but  that  God  actu- 
ally does  so,  he  offered  a somewhat  wavering  front  to  the  intuitional  theories 
which  he  attacked,  and  exposed  himself  to  much  adverse  criticism  from  his 
contemporaries  and  successors.  But  here  he  ventured  upon  ground  on  which 
no  one  before  or  after  him  has  found  a footing. 

Locke  divided  ideas  into  simple  and  complex.  Simple  ideas,  “in  the 
reception  whereof  the  mind  is  only  passive,”  he  classified  according  to  their 
derivation  from  one  sense  only,  from  various  senses  in  combination,  from 
sensation  and  reflection  together,  and  from  reflection  alone.  Complex  ideas, 
in  the  formation  of  which  the  mind  is  active,  he  considered  according  as  they 
are  modes,  substances,  or  relations. 

“ Though  the  qualities  that  affect  our  senses,”  he  said,  “ are,  in  the  things 
themselves,  so  united  and  blended  that  there  is  no  separation,  no  distance 
between  them,  yet  it  is  plain  the  ideas  they  produce  in  the  mind  enter  by 
the  senses,  simple  and  unmixed.  For  though  the  sight  and  touch  often  take 
in  from  the  same  object,  at  the  same  time,  different  ideas,  as  the  hand  feels 
softness  and  warmth  in  the  same  piece  of  wax,  yet  the  simple  ideas  thus 
united  in  the  same  subject  are  as  perfectly  distinct  as  those  that  come  in  by 
different  senses ; the  coldness  and  hardness  which  a man  feels  in  a piece  of 
wax  being  as  distinct  ideas  in  the  mind  as  the  smell  and  whiteness  of  a lily, 
or  as  the  taste  of  sugar  and  smell  of  a rose.  And  there  is  nothing  can  be 
plainer  to  a man  than  the  clear  and  distinct  perception  he  has  of  those  simple 
ideas,  which,  being  each  in  itself  uncompounded,  contains  in  itself  nothing 
but  one  uniform  appearance  of  the  mind,  and  is  not  distinguishable  into 
different  ideas.  These  simple  ideas,  the  materials  of  all  our  knowledge,  are 
suggested  and  furnished  to  the  mind  only  by  those  two  ways,  sensation  and 
reflection.  When  the  understanding  is  once  stored  with  these  simple  ideas, 
it  has  the  power  to  repeat,  compare,  and  unite  them,  even  to  an  almost 


1 The  abstract  printed  by  Lord  King,  p.  365.  This  is  a more  precise 
account  of  Locke’s  view  than  he  gave  in  the  published  essay. 


1687.  "I 
JKt.  55.  J 


SIMPLE  AND  COMPLEX  IDEAS. 


113 


infinite  variety,  and  so  can  make  at  pleasure  new  complex  ideas.  But  it  is 
not  in  the  power  of  the  most  exalted  wit  or  enlarged  understanding,  by  any 
quickness  or  variety  of  thought,  to  invent  or  frame  one  new  simple  idea  in 
the  mind,  not  taken  in  by  the  ways  before  mentioned,  nor  can  any  force  of 
the  understanding  destroy  those  that  are  there  ; the  dominion  of  man,  in 
this  little  world  of  his  own  understanding,  being  much-what  the  same  as  it 
is  in  the  great  world  of  visible  things,  wherein  his  power,  however  managed 
by  art  and  skill,  reaches  no  farther  than  to  compound  and  divide  the  mate- 
rials that  are  made  to  his  hand,  but  can  do  nothing  towards  the  making  the 
least  particle  of  new  matter  or  destroying  one  atom  of  what  is  already  in 
being.”  1 

Among  the  simple  ideas  of  sensation  Locke  specified  solidity,  extension, 
figure,  sounds,  tastes,  colours  and  smells,  motion  and  rest;  among  simple 
ideas  of  sensation  and  reflection  combined,  pleasure  and  pain,  existence, 
unity,  power,  and  succession  ; and  the  simple  ideas  of  reflection  alone  which 
he  described  were  perception,  retention,  discerning,  comparing,  compound- 
ing or  enlarging,  abstraction,  and  volition.  Among  complex  ideas  he  treated 
especially  of  space  and  expansion,  time  and  duration,  number,  and  the  like. 
His  examination  led  him,  not  to  cover,  but  to  make  large  excursions  over, 
the  whole  domain  of  metaphysics,  and  occasionally  to  cross  the  border  into 
ethics.  His  method  will  be  better  shown  by  a few  illustrations  than  by  a 
bald  analysis  of  the  whole. 

His  remarks  on  pleasure  and  pain,  and  their  issues,  fairly  represent 
Locke’s  power  as  a psychologist,  and  also  curiously  show  how,  taking  from 
any  source  the  notions  that  seemed  to  him  most  reasonable,  he  modified  or 
altered  them  as  his  own  judgment  directed.  In  this  case,  as  in  many  others, 
Hobbes  was  his  immediate  teacher,  Aristotle  his  more  remote  one.  “ De- 
light or  uneasiness,”  he  said,  “one  or  other  of  them,  join  themselves  to 
almost  all  our  ideas,  both  of  sensation  and  reflection  ; and  there  is  scarce 
any  affection  of  our  senses  from  without,  any  retired  thought  of  our  mind 
within,  which  is  not  able  to  produce  in  us  pleasure  or  pain.  By  pleasure 
and  pain,  I would  be  understood  to  signify  whatsoever  delights  or  molests 
us  most,  whether  it  arise  from  the  thoughts  of  our  minds,  or  anything 
operating  on  our  bodies.  For  whether  we  call  it  satisfaction,  delight,  plea- 
sure, happiness,  etc.,  on  the  one  side,  or  uneasiness,  trouble,  pain,  torment, 
anguish,  misery,  etc.,  on  the  other,  they  are  still  but  different  degrees  of  the 
same  thing,  and  belong  to  the  ideas  of  pleasure  and  pain,  delight  or  uneasi- 
ness.” “ Pain  has  the  same  efficacy  and  use  to  set  us  on  work  that  pleasure 

1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understandings’  b.  ii.,  ch.  ii.,  §§  1,  2. 

Vol.  II. — 8 


114 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


(( 


>» 


lias,  we  being  as  ready  to  employ  our  faculties  to  avoid  that,  as  to  pursue 
this  ; only  this  is  worth  our  consideration,  that  pain  is  often  produced  by  the 
same  objects  and  ideas  that  produce  pleasure  in  us.”  “Thus,  heat,  that  is 
very  agreeable  to  us  in  one  degree,  by  a little  greater  increase  of  it  proves 
no  ordinary  torment ; and  the  most  pleasant  of  all  sensible  objects,  light 
itself,  if  there  be  too  much  of  it,  if  increased  beyond  a due  proportion  to 
our  eyes,  causes  a very  painful  sensation  ; which  is  wisely  and  favourably 
so  ordered  by  nature,  that  when  any  object  does,  by  the  vehemency  of  its 
operation,  disorder  the  instruments  of  sensation,  whose  structures  cannot 
but  be  very  nice  and  delicate,  we  might  by  the  pain  be  warned  to  with- 
draw before  the  organ  be  quite  put  out  of  order  and  so  be  unfitted  for  its 
proper  function  for  the  future.  The  consideration  of  those  objects  that 
produce  it  may  well  persuade  us  that  this  is  the  end  or  use  of  pain.  For 
though  great  light  be  insufferable  to  our  eyes,  yet  the  highest  degree  of 
darkness  does  not  at  all  disease  them  ; because  that,  causing  no  disorderly 
motion  in  it,  leaves  that  curious  organ  unharmed,  in  its  natural  state.  But 
yet  excess  of  cold,  as  well  as  heat,  pains  us ; because  it  is  equally  destruc- 
tive to  that  temper  which  is  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  life  and  the 
exercise  of  the  several  functions  of  the  body,  and  which  consists  in  a mode- 
rate degree  of  warmth,  or,  if  you  please,  a motion  of  the  insensible  parts 
of  our  bodies,  confined  within  certain  bounds.  Beyond  all  this,  we  may 
find  another  reason  why  God  hath  scattered  up  and  down  several  degrees  of 
pleasure  and  pain  in  all  the  things  that  environ  and  affect  us,  and  blended 
them  together  in  almost  all  that  our  thoughts  and  senses  have  to  do  with  ; 
that  we,  finding  imperfection,  dissatisfaction,  and  want  of  complete  happi- 
ness, in  all  the  enjoyments  which  the  creatures  can  afford  us,  might  be  led 
to  seek  it  in  the  enjoyment  of  him,  ‘ with  whom  there  is  fulness  of  joy,  and 
at  whose  right  hand  are  pleasures  for  evermore.’  ” 1 

Locke’s  piety  was  invariable  ; but  it  did  not  make  him  less  of  an  experi- 
entialist  or  utilitarian.  “ Things  are  good  or  evil  only  in  reference  to  plea- 
sure or  pain.  That  we  call  good  which  is  apt  to  cause  or  increase  pleasure 
or  diminish  pain  in  us,  or  else  to  procure  or  preserve  us  the  possession  of 
any  other  good  or  absence  of  any  evil.  And,  on  the  contrary,  we  name  that 
evil  which  is  apt  to  produce  or  increase  any  pain  or  diminish  any  pleasure 
in  us,  or  else  to  procure  us  any  evil  or  deprive  us  of  any  good.” 2 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  vii. , §§  2,  4,  5. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  ch.  xx.,  § 2.  “Every  man,  for  his  own  part,”  said 
Hobbes,  “ calleth  that  which  pleaseth  and  is  delightful  to  himself  good,  and 


1687.  1 
Art.  55 ,J 


PLEASURE  AND  PAIN  : GOOD  AND  EVIL. 


115 


“ Pleasure  and  pain,  and  that  which  causes  them,  good  and  evil,”  Locke 
said  further,  “ are  the  hinges  on  which  our  passions  turn  ; and  if  we  reflect 
on  ourselves,  and  observe  how  these,  under  various  considerations,  operate 
in  us — what  modifications  or  tempers  of  mind,  what  internal  sensations  (if  I 
may  so  call  them),  they  produce  in  us — we  may  thence  form  to  ourselves  the 
ideas  of  our  passions.  Thus,  any  one  reflecting  upon  the  thought  he  has  of 
the  delight  which  any  present  or  absent  thing  is  apt  to  produce  in  him  has 
the  idea  we  call  love.  For  when  a man  declares  in  autumn,  when  he  is 
eating  them,  or  in  spring,  when  there  are  none,  that  he  loves  grapes,  it  is  no 
more  but  that  the  taste  of  grapes  delights  him ; let  an  alteration  of  health 
or  constitution  destroy  the  delight  of  their  taste,  and  he  then  can  be  said  to 
love  grapes  no  longer.1  On  the  contrary,  the  thought  of  the  pain  which 
anything  present  or  absent  is  apt  to  produce  in  us  is  what  we  call  hatred. 
Were  it  my  business  here  to  inquire  any  farther  than  into  the  bare  ideas  of 
our  passions,  as  they  depend  on  different  modifications  of  pleasure  and  pain, 
I should  remark  that  our  love  and  hatred  of  inanimate  insensible  beings  is 


that  evil  which  displeaseth  him  ; insomuch  that,  while  every  man  differeth 
from  others  in  constitution,  they  differ  also  from  one  another  concerning  the 
common  distinction  between  good  and  evil.”  (‘  Human  Nature,’  ch.  vii.,  § 3.) 
Again,  and  more  explicitly  : — “ Because  the  constitution  of  man’s  body  is  in 
continual  mutation,  it  is  impossible  that  all  the  same  things  should  cause  in 
him  the  same  appetites  and  aversions ; much  less  can  all  men  consent  in  the 
desire  of  almost  any  one  and  the  same  object.  But  whatsoever  is  the  object 
of  any  man’s  appetite  or  desire,  that  is  it  which  he  for  his  part  calleth  good, 
and  the  object  of  his  hate  and  aversion,  evil,  and  of  his  contempt,  vile  and 
inconsiderable.  For  these  words  of  good  and  evil  and  contemptible  are  ever 
used  with  relation  to  the  person  that  useth  them,  there  being  nothing  simply 
and  absolutely  so,  nor  any  common  rule  of  good  and  evil  to  be  taken  from 
the  nature  of  the  objects  themselves,  but  from  the  person  of  the  man.” 
(‘Leviathan,’  part  i.,  ch.  vi.) 

1 Locke’s  own  temperament  shows  that  he  was  here  using  the  term  love 
in  a very  restricted  sense,  as  he  says  presently,  “as  applied  to  inanimate 
insensible  beings.”  “ Delight,  contentment,  or  pleasure,”  said  Hobbes,  “ is 
nothing  really  but  motion  about  the  heart,  as  conception  is  nothing  but 
motion  in  the  head ; and  the  objects  that  cause  it  are  called  pleasant  or 
delightful,  or  by  some  name  equivalent.  The  Latins  have  jucundum,  a 
juvando — from  helping;  and  the  same  delight,  with  reference  to  the  object, 
is  called  love.” — ‘ Human  Nature,’  ch.  vii.,  § 1. 


116 


“ CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


Chap.  X. 


commonly  founded  on  that  pleasure  and  pain  which  we  receive  from  their 
use  and  application  any  way  to  our  senses,  though  with  their  destruction ; 
but  hatred  or  love  to  beings  capable  of  happiness  or  misery  is  often  the 
uneasiness  or  delight  which  we  find  in  ourselves  arising  from  a consideration 
of  their  very  being  or  happiness.  Thus,  the  being  and  welfare  of  a man’s 
children  or  friends  producing  constant  delight  in  him,  he  is  said  constantly 
to  love  them.  But  it  suffices  to  note  that  our  ideas  of  love  and  hatred  are 
but  the  dispositions  of  the  mind  in  respect  of  pleasure  and  pain  in  general, 
however  caused  in  us.”1 

Locke  proceeded  very  briefly  to  point  out  the  sensational  origin  of  other 
passions — desire,  joy,  sorrow,  hope,  fear,  despair,  anger,  envy.  “ These 
two  last,  not  being  caused  by  pain  and  pleasure  simply  in  themselves,  but 
having  in  them  some  mixed  considerations  of  ourselves  and  others,  are  not 
therefore  to  be  found  in  all  men  ; but  all  the  rest  terminating  purely  in  pain 
and  pleasure,  are,  I think,  to  be  found  in  all  men.  For  we  love,  desire, 
rejoice  and  hope  only  in  respect  of  pleasure ; we  hate,  fear  and  grieve 
only  in  respect  of  pain  ultimately:  in  fine,  all  these  passions  are  moved  by 
things  only  as  they  appear  to  be  the  causes  of  pleasure  and  pain,  or  to  have 
pleasure  or  pain  some  way  or  other  annexed  to  them.  Thus  we  extend  our 
hatred  usually  to  the  subject,  at  least  if  a sensible  or  voluntary  agent,  which 
has  produced  pain  in  us,  because  the  fear  it  leaves  is  a constant  pain  : but 
we  do  not  so  constantly  love  what  has  done  us  good,  because  pleasure  ope- 
rates not  so  strongly  on  us  as  pain,  and  because  we  are  not  so  ready  to  have 
hope  it  will  do  so  again.”2 

“ I would  not  be  mistaken  here,”  Locke  was  careful  to  warn  his  readers, 
“as  if  I meant  this  as  a discourse  of  the  passions  : they  are  many  more 
than  those  I have  here  named  ; and  those  I have  taken  notice  of,  would  each 
of  them  require  a much  larger  and  more  accurate  discourse.  I have  only 
mentioned  these  here,  as  so  many  instances  of  modes  of  pleasure  and  pain 
resulting  in  our  minds  from  various  considerations  of  good  and  evil.  I 
might,  perhaps,  have  instanced  other  modes  of  pleasure  and  pain  more 
simple  than  these,  as  the  pain  of  hunger  and  thirst,  and  the  pleasure 
of  eating  and  drinking  to  remove  them  ; the  pain  of  tender  eyes,  and  the 
pleasure  of  music  ; pam  from  captious  uninstructive  wrangling,  and  the  plea- 
sure of  rational  conversation  with  a friend,  or  of  well-directed  study  in  the 
search  and  discovery  of  truth.  But,  the  passions  being  of  much  more  con- 


1 * Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xx.,  § § 3 — 5. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  ch.  xx.,  § 14. 


HAPPINESS  AND  MISEEY. 


1687.  "I 
At.  55. J 


117 


comment  to  us,  I rather  made  choice  to  instance  them,  and  show  how  the 
ideas  we  have  of  them  are  derived  from  sensation  and  reflection.”  1 

In  order  to  understand  Locke’s  position  we  must  follow  him  a step  farther. 
“Happiness  and  misery,”  he  said,  “are  the  names  of  two  extremes,  the 
utmost  bounds  whereof  we  know  not ; it  is  what  ‘ eye  hath  not  seen,  ear 
hath  not  heard,  nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.’  But 
of  some  degrees  of  both  we  have  very  lively  impressions  made  by  several 
instances  of  delight  and  joy  on  the  one  side  and  torment  and  sorrow  on  the 
other ; which,  for  shortness’  sake,  I shall  comprehend  under  the  names  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  there  being  pleasure  and  pain  of  the  mind  as  well  as  the 
body : or,  to  speak  truly,  they  are  all  of  the  mind,  though  some  have  their 
rise  in  the  mind  from  thought,  others  in  the  body,  from  certain  modifications 
of  motion.  Happiness  then,  in  its  full  extent,  is  the  utmost  pleasure  we  are 
capable  of  ; and  misery  the  utmost  pain  : and  the  lowest  degree  of  what  can  be 
called  happiness  is  so  much  ease  from  all  pain,  and  so  much  present  pleasure 
as  without  which  any  one  cannot  be  content.  Now,  because  pleasure  and 
pain  are  produced  in  us  by  the  operation  of  certain  objects  either  on  our 
minds  or  our  bodies  and  in  different  degrees,  therefore  what  has  an  aptness 
to  produce  pleasure  in  us  is  that  we  call  good,  and  what  is  apt  to  produce 
pain  in  us  we  call  evil,  for  no  other  reason  but  for  its  aptness  to  produce 
pleasure  and  pain  in  us,  wherein  consists  our  happiness  and  misery.  Farther, 
though  what  is  apt  to  produce  any  degree  of  pleasure  be  in  itself  good,  and 
what  is  apt  to  produce  any  degree  of  pain  be  evil,  yet  it  often  happens  that 
we  do  not  call  it  so,  when  it  comes  in  competition  with  a greater  of  its  sort, 
because,  when  they  come  in  competition,  the  degrees  also  of  pleasure  and 
pain  have  justly  a preference.  So  that  if  we  will  rightly  estimate  what  we 
call  good  and  evil,  we  shall  find  it  lies  much  in  comparison  : for  the  cause  of 
every  less  degree  of  pain,  as  well  as  of  every  greater  degree  of  pleasure,  has 
the  nature  of  good,  and  vice  versa.”  2 

Those  last  quoted  sentences  are  from  Locke’s  very  remarkable  chapter  on 
“ Power,”  the  purport  of  which,  though  it  was  greatly  elaborated  in  later 
editions,  was  clearly  defined  from  the  first.  “ The  mind,”  he  said,  “being 
every  day  informed  by  the  senses  of  the  alteration  of  those  simple  ideas  it 
observes  in  things  without,  and  taking  notice  how  one  comes  to  an  end  and 
ceases  to  be  and  another  begins  to  exist  which  was  not  before,  reflecting 
also  on  what  passes  within  itself  and  observing  a constant  change  of  its  ideas, 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii. , ch.  xx.,  § 18. 

2 Ibicl.,  b.  ii.,  ch.  xxi.,  §§  41,  42  (§§  29,  30  in  the  first  edition). 


118  ‘‘CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  X. 

sometimes  by  the  impression  of  outward  objects  on  the  senses  and  sometimes 
by  the  determination  of  its  own  choice,  and  concluding,  from  what  it  has  so 
constantly  observed  to  have  been,  that  the  like  changes  will  for  the  future 
be  made  in  the  same  things  by  like  agents  and  by  the  like  ways,  considers 
in  one  thing  the  possibility  of  having  any  of  its  simple  ideas  changed,  and 
in  another  the  possibility  of  making  that  change,  and  so  comes  by  that  idea 
which  we  call  power.  Thus  we  say,  fire  has  a power  to  melt  gold,  that 
is,  to  destroy  the  consistency  of  its  insensible  parts  and  consequently  its 
hardness  and  make  it  fluid,  and  gold  has  a power  to  be  melted  ; that  the  sun 
has  a power  to  blanch  wax,  and  wax  a power  to  be  blanched  by  the  sun, 
whereby  the  yellowness  is  destroyed  and  whiteness  made  to  exist  in  its  room. 
In  which  and  the  like  cases,  the  power  we  consider  is  in  reference  to  the 
change  of  perceivable  ideas  ; for  we  cannot  observe  any  alteration  to  be  made 
in  or  operation  upon  anything  but  by  the  observable  change  of  its  sensible 
ideas,  nor  conceive  any  alteration  to  be  made  but  by  conceiving  a change  of 
some  of  its  ideas.”1 

After  speaking  of  what  he  called  “ passive  power,”  exhibited  chiefly  in  the 
operations  of  nature,  Locke  proceeded  to  treat  of  “ active  power,”  as  pos- 
sessed by  intelligent  beings.  “ All  the  actions  that  we  have  any  idea  of 
reduce  themselves  to  these  two — namely,  thinking  and  motion  : so  far  as  a 
man  has  power  to  think  or  not  to  think,  to  move  or  not  to  move,  according 
to  the  preference  or  direction  of  his  own  mind,  so  far  is  a man  free.  Wherever 
any  performance  or  forbearance  are  not  equally  in  a man’s  power,  wherever 
doing  or  not  doing  will  not  equally  follow  upon  the  preference  of  his  mind 
directing  it,  there  he  is  not  free,  though  perhaps  the  action  may  be  voluntary. 
So  that  the  idea  of  liberty  is  the  idea  of  a power  in  any  agent  to  do  or 
forbear  any  particular  action,  according  to  the  determination  or  thought  of 
the  mind,  whereby  either  of  them  is  preferred  to  the  other : where  either  of 
them  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  agent  to  be  produced  by  him  according  to 
his  volition,  there  he  is  not  at  liberty,  that  agent  is  under  necessity.  So 
that  liberty  cannot  be  where  there  is  no  thought,  no  volition,  no  will ; but 
there  may  be  thought,  there  may  be  will,  there  may  be  volition,  where  there 
is  no  liberty.  A little  consideration  of  an  obvious  instance  or  two,  may 
make  this  clear.  A tennis-ball,  whether  in  motion  by  the  stroke  of  a racket, 


6 

i ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xxi.,  § 1.  Here  we 
have  an  illustration  of  Locke’s  variable  and  contradictory  use  of  the  word 
“ idea,”  causing  occasional  confusion  in  his  own  mind,  and  bringing  on 
him  much  excessive  blame  from  his  critics. 


168"  1 
Mt.  55.  J 


POWER  AND  LIBERTY. 


119 


or  lying  still  at  rest,  is  not  by  any  one  taken  to  be  a free  agent.  If  we  inquire 
into  the  reason,  we  shall  find  it  is  because  we  conceive  not  a tennis-ball  to 
think,  and  consequently  not  to  have  any  volition,  preference  of  motion  to 
rest,  or  vice  versa,  and  therefore  has  not  liberty,  is  not  a free  agent ; but  its 
both  motion  and  rest  come  under  our  idea  of  necessary,  and  are  so  called. 
Likewise,  a man  falling  into  the  water  (a  bridge  breaking  under  him),  has 
not  herein  liberty,  is  not  a free  agent.  For  though  he  has  volition,  though 
he  prefers  his  not  falling  to  falling,  yet,  the  forbearance  of  that  motion  not 
being  in  his  power,  the  stop  or  cessation  of  that  motion  follows  not  upon  his 
volition  and  therefore  therein  he  is  not  free.  So,  a man  striking  himself  or 
his  friend  by  a convulsive  motion  of  his  arm,  which  it  is  not  in  his  power  by 
volition  or  the  direction  of  his  mind  to  stop  or  forbear,  nobody  thinks  he  has 
in  this  liberty,  every  one  pities  him,  as  acting  by  necessity  and  constraint. 
Again,  suppose  a man  be  carried,  whilst  fast  asleep,  into  a room  where  is 
a person  he  longs  to  see  and  speak  with,  and  be  there  locked  fast  in,  beyond 
his  power  to  get  out.  He  awakes,  and  is  glad  to  find  himself  in  so  desirable 
company,  which  he  stays  willingly  in,  that  is,  prefers  his  stay  to  going 
away.  I ask,  is  not  this  stay  voluntary  ? I think  nobody  will  doubt  it ; 
and  yet,  being  locked  fast  in,  it  is  evident  he  is  not  at  liberty  not  to  stay,  he 
has  not  freedom  to  be  gone.  So  that  liberty  is  not  an  idea  belonging  to 
volition,  or  preferring,  but  to  the  person  having  the  power  of  doing,  or 
forbearing  to  do,  according  as  the  mind  shall  choose  or  direct.  Our  idea  of 
liberty  reaches  as  far  as  that  power,  and  no  farther.  For  wherever  restraint 
comes  to  check  that  power,  or  compulsion  takes  away  that  indiff'erency  of 
ability  on  either  side,  to  act  or  to  forbear  acting,  there  liberty  and  our  notion 
of  it  presently  ceases.”  1 

“If  this  be  so,  as  I imagine  it  is,”  Locke  continued,  “ I leave  it  to  be 
considered,  whether  it  may  not  help  to  put  an  end  to  that  long  agitated  and, 
I think,  unreasonable,  because  unintelligible  question,  namely,  whether  man’s 
will  be  free  or  no  ? For,  if  I mistake  not,  it  follows  from  what  I have  said 
that  the  question  itself  is  altogether  improper ; and  it  is  as  insignificant  to 
ask  whether  man’s  will  be  free  as  to  ask  whether  his  sleep  be  swift  or  his 
virtue  square  ; liberty  being  as  little  applicable  to  the  will  as  swiftness  of 
motion  is  to  sleep  or  squareness  to  virtue.  Every  one  would  laugh  at  the 
absurdity  of  such  a question  as  either  of  these,  because  it  is  obvious  that  the 
modifications  of  motion  belong  not  to  sleep  nor  the  difference  of  figure  to 
virtue ; and,  when  any  one  well  considers  it,  I think  he  will  as  plainly  per- 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii. , ch.  xxi.,  §§  8 — 10. 


120  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap,  x 

ceive  that  liberty,  which  is  hut  a power,  belongs  only  to  agents,  and  cannot 
be  an  attribute  or  modification  of  the  will,  which  is  also  hut  a power.”  1 
Of  course  the  world  is  very  loth  to  adopt  Locke’s  incontrovertible  state- 
ment ; but  if  his  arguments  are  not  heeded  it  is  strange  that  his  humour 
should  have  no  effect.  “ The  name  faculty,”  he  said,  “which  men  have 
given  to  this  power  called  the  will,  and  whereby  they  have  been  led  into  a 
way  of  talking  of  the  will  as  acting,  may,  by  an  appropriation  that  disguises 
its  true  sense,  serve  a little  to  palliate  the  absurdity;  yet  the  will,  in  truth, 
signifies  nothing  but  a power  or  ability  to  prefer  or  choose,  and  when  the 
will,  under  the  name  of  a faculty,  is  considered,  as  it  is,  barely  as  an  ability 
to  do  something,  the  absurdity  in  saying  it  is  free  or  not  free  will  easily 
discover  itself.'2  For  if  it  be  reasonable  to  suppose  and  talk  of  faculties  as 
distinct  beings  that  can  act  (as  we  do,  when  we  say  the  will  orders,  and  the 
will  is  free),  it  is  fit  that  we  should  make  a speaking  faculty,  and  a walking 
faculty,  and  a dancing  faculty,  by  which  those  actions  are  produced,  which 
are  but  several  modes  of  motion,  as  well  as  we  make  the  will  and  under- 
standing to  be  faculties,  by  which  the  actions  of  choosing  and  perceiving  are 
produced,  which  are  but  several  modes  of  thinking  ; and  we  may  as  properly 
say,  that  it  is  the  singing  faculty  sings,  and  the  dancing  faculty  dances,  as 
that  the  will  chooses  or  that  the  understanding  conceives  ; or,  as  is  usual, 
that  the  will  directs  the  understanding,  or  the  understanding  obeys,  or  obeys 
not,  the  will.”  The  fault  has  been,”  he  added,  referring  to  other  blunders 
of  untrained  opinion  besides  this  great  one,  “ that  faculties  have  been  spoken 
of  and  represented  as  so  many  distinct  agents.  For,  it  being  asked  what  it  was 
that  digested  the  meat  in  our  stomachs,  it  was  a ready  and  very  satisfactory 
answer  to  say  that  it  was  the  digestive  faculty  ; what  was  it  that  made  any- 
thing come  out  of  the  body  ? the  expulsive  faculty  ; what  moved  ? the  motive 
faculty ; and  so,  in  the  mind,  the  intellectual  faculty  or  the  understanding 
understood,  and  the  elective  faculty  or  the  will  willed  or  commanded.  This 
is,  in  short,  to  say  that  the  ability  to  digest  digested,  and  the  ability  to  move 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii. , ch.  xxi.,  § 14.  This  view 
was,  of  course,  anticipated,  though  by  no  means  so  clearly  and  temperately 
stated,  in  Hobbes’s  argument  against  Bishop  Bramhall.  “ In  the  following 
of  one’s  hopes  and  fears,”  said  Hobbes,  “ consisteth  the  nature  of  election  ; 
so  that  a man  may  both  choose  this  and  cannot  but  choose  this,  and  con- 
sequently choosing  and  necessity  are  joined  together.” 

2 In  quoting  this  sentence  I have  followed  the  fourth  edition,  where  it  is 
blightly  altered  from  the  first. 


if  55.]  WILL  AND  u FEEE  WILL.”  121 

moved,  and  the  ability  to  understand  understood.  For  faculty,  ability,  and 
power,  I think,  are  but  different  names  of  the  same  things  ; which  ways  of 
speaking,  when  put  into  more  intelligible  words,  will,  I think,  amount  to 
this  much,  that  digestion  is  performed  by  something  that  is  able  to  digest, 
motion  by  something  able  to  move,  and  understanding  by  something  able  to 
understand.  And,  in  truth,  it  would  be  very  strange  if  it  should  be  other- 
wise, as  strange  as  it  would  be  for  a man  to  be  free  without  being  able  to  be  1 
free.” 1 

Let  us,  Locke  urged,  get  rid  of  the  quibbling  question,  whether  the  will  is 
free,  and  substitute  for  it  the  very  real  one,  whether  man  is  free  to  will.  “If  the 
ideas  of  liberty  and  volition  were  well  fixed  in  our  understandings  and  carried 
along  with  us  in  our  minds,  as  they  ought,  through  all  the  questions  that  are 
raised  about  them,  I suppose  a great  part  of  the  difficulties  that  perplex 
men’s  thoughts  and  entangle  their  understandings  would  be  much  easier 
resolved,  and  we  should  perceive  whether  the  confused  signification  of  terms, 
or  whether  the  nature  of  the  thing,  caused  the  obscurity.  It  is  carefully  to 
be  remembered,  that  freedom  consists  in  the  dependence  of  the  existence 
or  not  existence  of  any  action  upon  our  volition  of  it ; and  not  in  the 
dependence  of  any  action,  or  its  contrary,  on  our  preference.  A man  stand- 
ing on  a cliff  is  at  liberty  t^>  leap  twenty  yards  downwards  into  the  sea  ; not 
because  he  has  a power  to  do  the  contrary  action,  which  is  to  leap  twenty  yards 
upwards,  for  that  he  cannot  do : but  he  is  therefore  free  because  he  has  a 
power  to  leap  or  not  to  leap.  But  if  a greater  force  than  his  either  holds 
him  fast  or  tumbles  him  down,  he  is  no  longer  free  in  that  case,  because  the 
doing  or  forbearance  of  that  particular  action  is  no  longer  in  his  power.  He 
that  is  a close  prisoner  in  a room  of  twenty  feet  square,  being  at  the  north 
side  of  his  chamber,  is  at  liberty  to  walk  twenty  feet  southward,  because  he 
can  walk,  or  not  to  walk  it ; but  is  not  at  the  same  time  at  liberty  to  do  the 
contrary — that  is,  to  walk  twenty  feet  northward.  In  this  then  consists 
freedom,  namely,  in  our  being  able  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  according  as  we 
shall  choose  or  will.”  2 

That  brings  us  to  the  paragraph  about  happiness  and  misery  which  has 
already  been  quoted.  Holding  that  the  pursuit  of  happiness  or  goodness 
and  the  avoidance  of  evil  or  misery  are  but  extreme  developments  of  the  same 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xxi.,  §§  17,  20. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  ch.  xxi.,  §§  26,  27.  The  above  quotations  are  from  the 
chapter  as  it  appeared  in  Locke’s  first  edition.  He  greatly  expanded  his 
arguments  afterwards. 


122  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  X. 

process  by  which  we  naturally  adopt  attitudes  of  repose  that  give  most  relief 
to  the  body,  or  shrink  from  contact  with  anything  likely  to  give  us  pain, 
Locke  held  that  the  action  of  the  will,  whether  wise  or  unwise,  is  no  more 
“ voluntary  ” in  the  higher  than  in  the  lower  occupations.  He  used  his 
words  cautiously,  and  seems  to  have  been  himself  almost  afraid  of  the 
doctrine  he  was  propounding,  and  in  the  second  edition  of  his  work  he 
somewhat  modified  it,  mainly  under  the  influence  of  honest  theological  con- 
siderations. The  doctrine  was  substantially  maintained,  however,  and,  if 
not  completely  worked  out  by  him,  suggested  the  only  sure  ground  for  all 
future  arguments  in  disproof  of  man’s  endowment  with  what  is  called  free- 
will. 

After  discussing,  in  his  second  book,  which  comprises  nearly  half  of  the 
whole  work,  “ the  original,  sorts  and  extent  of  our  ideas,  with  several  other 
considerations  about  these  instruments  or  materials  of  our  knowledge,”  Locke 
proceeded  “ to  show  what  use  the  understanding  makes  of  them,  and  what 
knowledge  we  have  by  them.”  While  thus  engaged,  however,  as  has  already 
been  noted,  he  found  that  “ there  is  so  close  a connection  between  ideas  and 
words,  and  our  abstract  ideas  and  general  words  have  so  constant  a relation 
one  to  another,  that  it  is  impossible  to  speak  clearly  and  distinctly  of  our 
knowledge,  which  all  consists  in  propositions,  without  considering  first  the 
nature,  use,  and  signification  of  language.”  1 

That  accordingly  is  the  subject  of  his  third  book,  “ that  immortal  third 
book,”  as  John  Stuart  Mill  has  termed  it ; of  which,  however,  not  much  will 
here  be  said.  Locke’s  teaching  on  the  groundwork  of  logic  has  come  to  be 
so  generally  adopted  that  it  would  be  idle  to  describe  it  without  also  showing 
what  wonderful  innovations  it  made  upon  the  teaching  previously  in  vogue, 
and  for  that  the  present  is  not  a suitable  occasion. 

Words  are  signs,  and  signs,  not  of  things  themselves,  but  of  our  ideas  about 
things.  Originally  each  word  must  have  stood  for  a particular  idea  about  a par- 
ticular thing;  but,  as  with  the  growth  of  intelligence,  ideas  are  necessarily  aggre- 
gated, and  abstract  ideas  formed,  so  general  terms  have  come  to  be  adopted. 
“All  things  that  exist  being  particular,  what  need  of  general  terms  ? and  what 
are  those  general  natures  they  stand  for,  since  the  greatest  part  of  words  in 
common  use  are  general  terms  ? As  to  the  first,  particular  things  are  so  many 
that  the  mind  could  not  retain  names  for  them,  and,  could  the  memory  retain 
them,  they  would  be  useless,  because  the  particular  things  known  to  one  would 
be  utterly  unknown  to  another,  and  so  their  names  would  not  serve  for  com- 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii. , ch.  xxxiii.,  § 19. 


2Et.°55.]  WORDS  : THEIR  OBJECT,  USE  AND  ABUSE. 


123 


munication  where  they  stood  not  for  an  idea  common  to  both  speaker  and 
hearer ; besides,  our  progress  to  knowledge  being  by  generals,  we  have  need 
of  general  terms.  As  to  the  second,  the  general  natures  general  terms  stand 
for  are  only  general  ideas,  and  ideas  become  general  only  by  being  abstracted 
from  time  and  place  and  other  particularities  that  make  them  the  repre- 
sentatives only  of  individuals,  by  which  separation  of  some  ideas  which, 
annexed  to  them,  make  them  particular  they  are  made  capable  of  agreeing 
to  several  particulars : thus  ideas  come  to  represent,  not  one  particular 
existence,  but  a sort  of  things  as  their  names,  to  stand  for  sorts,  which  sorts 
are  usually  called  by  the  Latin  terms  of  art,  genus  and  species,  of  which  each 
is  supposed  to  have  its  particular  essence  ; and,  though  there  be  much  dis- 
pute and  stir  about  genus  and  species  and  their  essences,  yet  in  truth  the 
essence  of  each  genus  and  species,  or,  to  speak  English,  of  each  sort  of  things, 
is  nothing  else  hut  the  abstract  idea  in  the  mind  which  the  speaker  makes 
the  general  term  the  sign  of.  It  is  true,  every  particular  thing  has  a real 
constitution  by  which  it  is  what  it  is ; and  this,  by  the  genuine  notion  of 
the  word,  is  called  its  essence  or  being ; hut,  the  word  essence  having  been 
transferred  from  its  original  signification  and  applied  to  the  artificial  species 
and  genera  of  the  schools,  men  commonly  look  on  essences  to  belong  to  the 
sorts  of  things  as  they  are  ranked  under  different  general  denominations, 
and  in  this  sense  essences  are  truly  nothing  hut  the  abstract  ideas  which 
those  general  terms  are  by  any  one  made  to  stand  for.  The  first  of  these 
may  he  called  the  real,  the  second  the  nominal  essence,  which  sometimes  are 
the  same,  sometimes  quite  different  one  from  another.”  1 That  epitome  of 
one  of  Locke’s  chapters,  in  his  own  words,  may  help  those  who  know  any- 
thing of  the  old  doctrines  of  the  schoolmen  to  see  how  much  new  light  he 
threw  upon  the  subject. 

Locke  had  reason  to  take  credit  to  himself  for  his  contribution  to  the 
science  of  language.  “ I was  willing,”  he  said,  “ to  stay  my  reader  on  an 
argument  that  appears  to  me  new  and  a little  out  of  the  way,  that,  by  searching 
to  the  bottom  and  turning  it  on  every  side,  some  part  or  other  might  meet 
with  every  one’s  thoughts,  and  give  occasion  to  the  most  averse  or  negligent 
to  reflect  on  a general  miscarriage  ; which,  though  of  great  consequence,  is 
little  taken  notice  of.  When  it  is  considered  what  a pudder  is  made  about 
essences,  and  how  much  all  sorts  of  knowledge,  discourse  and  conversation 
are  pestered  and  disordered  by  the  careless  and  confused  use  and  application 
of  words,  it  will  perhaps  be  thought  worth  while  thoroughly  to  lay  it  open. 


1 The  “ abstract  ” of  h.  iff.,  cli.  iff.,  in  Lord  King,  p.  877. 


124  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  X. 

And  I shall  be  pardoned  if  I have  dwelt  long  on  an  argument  which  I think 
needs  to  be  inculcated,  because  the  faults  men  are  usually  guilty  of  in  this 
kind  are  not  only  the  greatest  hindrances  of  true  knowledge,  but  are  so  well 
thought  of  as  to  pass  for  it.  I shall  imagine  I have  done  some  service  to 
truth,  peace  and  learning  if,  by  an  enlargement  on  this  subject,  I can  make 
men  reflect  on  their  own  use  of  language,  and  give  them  reason  to  suspect 
that  since  it  is  frequent  for  others  it  may  also  be  possible  for  them  to  have 
sometimes  very  good  and  approved  words  in  their  mouths  and  writings,  with 
very  uncertain,  little,  or  no  signification.  And,  therefore,  it  is  not  unreason- 
able for  them  to  be  wary  herein  themselves  and  not  to  be  unwilling  to  have 
them  examined  by  others.”1 

How  to  be  wary  and  how  to  examine  Locke  pointed  out  with  unmatched 
force  and  clearness,  and  he  urged  that  philosophers  at  any  rate  should 
endeavour  to  learn  something  of  the  art  of  speaking,  and  even  consent  “ to 
be  very  knowing  or  very  silent.”  “ Though  the  market  and  exchange  must 
be  left  to  their  own  ways  of  talking,  and  gossips  not  be  robbed  of  their  ancient 
privilege,”  he  said  with  unusual  scorn,  “though  the  schools  and  men  of 
argument  would  perhaps  take  it  amiss  to  have  anything  offered  to  abate  the 
length  or  lessen  the  number  of  their  disputes,  yet  methinks  those  who  pi’etend 
seriously  to  search  after  or  maintain  truth  should  think  themselves  obliged  to 
study  how  they  might  deliver  themselves  without  obscurity,  doubtfulness,  or 
equivocation,  to  which  men’s  words  are  naturally  liable  if  care  be  not  taken. 
For  he  that  shall  well  consider  the  errors  and  obscurity,  the  mistakes  and 
confusion,  that  are  spread  in  the  world  by  an  ill  use  of  words,  will  find  some 
reason  to  doubt  whether  language,  as  it  has  been  employed,  has  contributed 
more  to  the  improvement  or  hindrance  of  knowledge  amongst  mankind.  How 
many  are  there  that,  when  they  would  think  on  things,  fix  their  thoughts 
only  on  words,  especially  when  they  would  apply  their  minds  to  moral  mat- 
ters ? and  who  then  can  wonder  that  the  result  of  such  contemplations  and 
reasonings  about  little  more  than  sounds,  whilst  the  ideas  they  annexed  to 
them  are  very  confused,  or  very  unsteady,  or,  perhaps,  none  at  all — who  can 
wonder,  I say,  that  such  thoughts  and  reasonings  end  in  nothing  but  obscurity 
and  mistake,  without  any  clear  judgment  or  knowledge  ? This  inconvenience 
in  an  ill  use  of  words  men  suffer  in  their  own  private  meditations  ; but  much 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iii. , ch.  v.,  § 16.  It  may  be 
worth  noting  that,  while  Locke  in  later  editions  made  considerable  additions 
to  other  parts  of  his  work,  he  hardly  touched  this  third  book.  He  appears 
to  have  been  satisfied  with  it,  and  he  had  good  reason  to  be  so. 


KNOWLEDGE  : ITS  NATURE  AND  DEGREES. 


125 


more  manifest  are  the  disorders  which  follow  from  it  in  conversation,  dis- 
course, and  arguings  with  others.  For,  language  being  the  great  conduit 
whereby  men  convey  their  discoveries,  reasonings  and  knowledge  from  one 
to  another,  he  that  makes  an  ill  use  of  it,  though  he  does  not  corrupt  the 
fountains  of  knowledge,  which  are  in  things  themselves,  yet  he  does,  as  much 
as  in  him  lies,  break  or  stop  the  pipes  whereby  it  is  distributed  to  the 
public  use  and  advantage  of  mankind.  He  that  uses  words  without  any 
clear  and  steady  meaning,  what  does  he  but  lead  himself  and  others  into 
errors  ? And  he  that  designedly  does  it,  ought  to  be  looked  on  as  an  enemy 
to  truth  and  knowledge.  And  yet  who  can  wonder  that  all  the  sciences  and 
parts  of  knowledge  have  been  so  overcharged  with  obscure  and  equivocal 
terms  and  insignificant  and  doubtful  expressions,  capable  to  make  the  most 
attentive  or  quick-sighted  very  little  or  not  at  all  the  more  knowing  or 
orthodox,  since  subtilty  in  those  who  make  profession  to  teach  or  defend 
truth  hath  passed  so  much  for  a virtue  ? a virtue  indeed  which,  consisting 
for  the  most  part  in  nothing  but  the  fallacious  and  illusory  use  of  obscure 
and  deceitful  terms,  is  only  fit  to  make  men  more  conceited  in  their  igno- 
rance and  obstinate  in  their  errors.”  1 

Having  urged  the  extreme  importance  of  making  good  use  of  good  words 
for  the  expression,  and,  where  possible,  for  the  definition  of  our  ideas,  Locke 
was  able  in  his  fourth  book  to  treat  of  knowledge,  which,  he  said,  is  “ nothing 
but  the  perception  of  the  connection  and  agreement  or  disagreement  and 
repugnancy  of  any  of  our  ideas.”  “ Where  this  perception  is,  there  is 
knowledge  ; and  where  it  is  not,  though  we  may  fancy,  guess,  or  believe, 
yet  we  always  come  short  of  knowledge.  For,  when  we  know  that  white  is 
not  black,  what  do  we  else  but  perceive  that  these  two  ideas  do  not 
agree  ? when  we  possess  ourselves  with  the  utmost  security  of  the  demonstra- 
tion that  the  three  angles  of  a triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  ones,  what  do 
we  more  but  perceive  that  equality  to  two  right  ones  does  necessarily 
agree  to,  and  is  inseparable  from,  the  three  angles  of  a triangle  ?”2 

Locke  enumerated  four  sorts  of  agreement  or  disagreement.  “ All  the 
inquiries  that  we  can  make  concerning  any  of  our  ideas,  all  that  we  know 
or  can  affirm  concerning  any  of  them,  is  ‘ that  it  is  or  is  not  the  same  with 
some  other  ; ’ ‘ that  it  does  or  does  not  always  co-exist  with  some  other  idea 
in  the  same  subject ; ’ ‘ that  it  has  this  or  that  relation  to  some  other  idea ; ’ 
or  ‘ that  it  has  a real  existence  without  the  mind.’  Thus,  ‘ blue  is  not  yellow  ’ 

1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iii. , ch.  xi.,  §§  3 — 5. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  iv.,  ch.  i.,  § 2. 


126 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Cha?.  X. 


a 


is  of  identity  ; ‘ two  triangles  upon  equal  bases  between  two  parallels  are 
equal  ’ is  of  relation  : ‘ iron  is  susceptible  of  magnetical  impressions  ’ is  of 
co-existence : ‘ God  is  ’ is  of  real  existence.  Though  identity  and  co- 
existence are  truly  nothing  but  relations,  yet  they  are  so  peculiar  ways  of 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas  that  they  deserve  well  to  be  con- 
sidered as  distinct  beads,  and  not  under  relation  in  general.”  1 

The  knowledge  thus  acquired,  in  Locke’s  view,  is  of  three  degrees ; the 
first  intuitive  (a  term  the  signification  of  which  in  his  writings  must  not  be 
confounded  with  that  now  sometimes  given  to  it),  when  “ the  mind  perceives 
the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  two  ideas  immediately,  by  themselves, 
without  the  intervention  of  any  other ; ” the  second,  demonstrative,  when 
several  ideas  have  to  be  brought  into  juxtaposition,  and  thus  a train  of 
intuitions  established,  this  process  being  known  as  reasoning ; the  thh’d 
“sensitive,”  as  to  the  separate  recognition  of  which  he  seems  very  properly 
to  have  had  doubts,  though  he  finally  decided  to  regard  “knowledge  of  the 
existence  of  particular  external  objects,  by  that  perception  and  conscious- 
ness we  have  of  the  actual  entrance  of  ideas  from  them,”  as  something 
different  from  either  intuitive  or  demonstrative  knowledge.  In  spite  of 
some  traces  of  scholasticism  in  his  argument,  Locke  showed  very  clearly 
that  we  can  have  no  knowledge  where  we  have  not  intelligible  ideas,  and  that 
our  power  of  using  those  ideas  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  depends 
on  our  power  to  place  them  in  co-ordination  and  to  apprehend  their  agree- 
ment or  disagreement.2 

It  would  be  impossible  in  the  course  of  a few  paragraphs  to  sum 
up  Locke’s  account  of  the  way  in  which  knowledge  is  to  be  acquired. 
His  own  limits  were  not  sufficient  for  a complete  handling  of  the  subject. 
Important  as  this  fourth  book  is  as  a contribution  to  the  science  of  applied 
logic,  and  especially  to  some  of  its  various  ramifications,  moreover,  its  chief 
interest  lies  in  its  illustration  of  Locke’s  advance  from  the  metaphysical 
views  that  were  current  before  and  in  his  day. 

He  was  particularly  careful  to  strip  all  their  artificial  authority  from  the 
“ maxims  ” or  “ general  propositions  ” that  were  the  basis  of  scholastic 
teaching,  and  to  show  that  whatever  value  lay  in  these  maxims  could  consist 
in  nothing  but  their  reasonableness,  that  is,  in  the  possibility  of  proving 
them.3  “ Since  the  knowledge  of  the  certainty  of  principles,  as  well  as  of 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  i.,  § 7. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  iv.,  ch.  i.,  § § 3 — 7 ; ch.  ii.,  § § 1 — 3. 

3 Ibid.,  b.  iv.,  ch.  vii.,  viii. 


^Tf55.]  REASON  THE  ONLY  TEST  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


127 


all  other  truths,”  he  said,  “ depends  only  upon  the  perception  we  have  of  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas,  the  way  to  improve  our  knowledge 
is  not,  I am  sure,  blindly  and  with  an  implicit  faith  to  receive  and  swallow 
principles,  hut  to  get  and  fix  in  our  minds  clear,  distinct,  and  complete  ideas, 
as  far  as  they  are  to  be  had,  and  annex  to  them  proper  and  constant  names. 
And  thus,  perhaps,  without  any  other  principles,  but  barely  considering 
those  ideas,  and,  by  comparing  them  one  with  another,  finding  their  agree- 
ment or  disagreement,  and  their  several  relations  and  habitudes,  we  shall 
get  more  true  and  clear  knowledge  by  the  conduct  of  this  one  rule,  than  by 
taking  up  principles  and  thereby  putting  our  minds  into  the  disposal  of 
others.  We  must  therefore,  if  we  will  proceed  as  reason  advises,  adapt  our 
methods  of  inquiry  to  the  nature  of  the  ideas  we  examine  and  the  truth  we 
search  after.  General  and  certain  truths  are  only  founded  in  the  habitudes 
and  relations  of  abstract  ideas.  A sagacious  and  methodical  application  of 
our  thoughts,  for  the  finding  out  these  relations,  is  the  only  way  to  discover 
all  that  can  be  put  with  truth  and  certainty  concerning  them  into  general 
propositions.  By  what  steps  we  are  to  proceed  in  these  is  to  be  learned  in 
the  schools  of  the  mathematicians,  who,  from  very  plain  and  easy  beginnings, 
by  gentle  degrees  and  a continued  chain  of  reasonings,  proceed  to  the 
discovery  and  demonstration  of  truths  that  appear  at  first  sight  beyond 
human  capacity.  The  art  of  finding  proofs,  and  the  admirable  methods 
they  have  invented  for  the  singling  out  and  laying  in  order  those  inter- 
mediate ideas  that  demonstratively  show  the  equality  or  inequality  of 
unapplicable  quantities,  is  that  which  has  carried  them  so  far  and  pro- 
duced such  wonderful  and  unexpected  discoveries.  I think  I may  say 
that,  if  other  ideas  that  are  the  real  as  well  as  nominal  essences  of  their 
species  were  pursued  in  the  way  familiar  to  mathematicians,  they  would  carry 
our  thoughts  farther  and  with  greater  evidence  and  clearness  than  possibly 
we  are  apt  to  imagine.”  1 

By  this  method,  Locke  thought,  a satisfactory  system  of  ethics  might  be 
built  up.  “ The  idea  of  a Supreme  Being,  infinite  in  power,  goodness  and 
wisdom,  whose  workmanship  we  are  and  on  whom  we  depend,  and  the  idea 
of  ourselves  as  understanding  rational  beings,  being  such  as  are  clear  in  us, 
would,  I suppose,  if  duly  considered  and  pursued,  afford  such  foundations 
of  our  duty  and  rules  of  action  as  might  place  morality  amongst  the  sciences 
capable  of  demonstration ; wherein  I doubt  not  but  from  self-evident  pro- 
positions, by  necessary  consequences  as  incontestable  as  those  in  mathe- 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  xii.,  § § 6,  7. 


128  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  ICKAV.X. 

rnatics,  the  measure  of  right  and  wrong  might  be  made  out  to  any  one  that 
will  apply  himself  with  the  same  indifferency  and  attention  to  the  one  as 
he  does  to  the  other  of  these  sciences.  The  relation  of  other  modes  may 
certainly  be  perceived,  as  well  as  those  of  number  and  extension ; and  I 
cannot  see  why  they  should  not  also  be  capable  of  demonstration,  if  due 
methods  were  thought  on  to  examine  or  pursue  their  agreement  or  dis- 
agreement. ‘ Where  there  is  no  property,  there  is  no  injustice,’  is  a proposi- 
tion as  certain  as  any  demonstration  in  Euclid  : for,  the  idea  of  property 
being  a right  to  anything,  and  the  idea  to  which  the  name  injustice  is  given 
being  the  invasion  or  violation  of  that  right,  it  is  evident  that,  these  ideas 
being  thus  established,  and  these  names  annexed  to  them,  I can  as  certainly 
know  this  proposition  to  be  true  as  that  a triangle  has  three  angles  equal  to 
two  right  ones.  Again,  in  ‘ No  government  allows  absolute,  liberty,’  the  idea 
of  government  being  the  establishment  of  society  upon  certain  rules  or  laws 
which  require  conformity  to  them,  and  the  idea  of  absolute  liberty  being  for 
any  one  to  do  whatever  he  pleases,  I am  as  capable  of  being  certain  of  the 
truth  of  this  proposition  as  of  any  in  the  mathematics.”1 

That  the  difficulty  of  constructing  an  ethical  science  would  be  far  greater 
than  in  the  case  of  mathematics  Locke  admitted,  partly  because  of  the 
insufficiency  of  words  to  express  the  varying  moods  and  capacities  of  men, 
partly  because  of  the  great  complexity  inevitable  to  moral  ideas.  “But,” 
he  added,  “one  part  of  these  disadvantages  in  moral  ideas,  which  has  made 
them  be  thought  not  capable  of  demonstration,  may  in  a good  measure  be 
remedied  by  definitions,  setting  down  that  collection  of  simple  ideas  which 
every  term  shall  stand  for,  and  then  using  the  terms  steadily  and  constantly 
for  that  precise  collection.  And  what  methods  algebra  or  something  of  that 
kind  may  hereafter  suggest  to  remove  the  other  difficulties  it  is  not  easy  to 
foretell.  Confident  I am  that  if  men  would,  in  the  same  method  and  with 
the  same  indifferency,  search  after  moral  as  they  do  mathematical  truths, 
they  would  find  them  have  a stronger  connection  one  with  another,  and  a 
more  necessary  consequence  from  our  clear  and  distinct  ideas,  and  come 
nearer  to  perfect  demonstration  than  is  commonly  imagined.  But  much  of 
this  is  not  to  be  expected  whilst  the  desire  of  esteem,  riches,  or  power  makes 
men  espouse  the  well-endowed  opinions  in  fashion,  and  then  seek  arguments 
either  to  make  good  their  beauty  or  varnish  over  and  cover  their  deformity  : 
nothing  being  so  beautiful  to  the  eye  as  truth  is  to  the  mind,  nothing  so 
deformed  and  irreconcilable  to  the  understanding  as  a lie.  For,  though 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  iii. , § 18. 


1687.  "I 

.fit.  55.  J 


THE  PROPER  METHOD  OP  ETHICS. 


129 


many  a man  can  with  satisfaction  enough  own  a not  very  handsome  wife  in 
his  bosom,  yet  who  is  bold  enough  openly  to  avow  that  he  has  espoused  a 
falsehood  and  received  into  his  breast  so  ugly  a thing  as  a lie  ? Whilst  the 
parties  of  men  cram  their  tenets  down  all  men’s  throats  whom  they  can  get 
into  their  power,  without  permitting  them  to  examine  their  truth  or  false- 
hood, and  will  not  let  truth  have  fair  play  in  the  world  nor  men  the  liberty 
to  search  after  it,  what  improvements  can  be  expected  of  this  kind  ? What 
greater  light  can  be  hoped  for  in  the  moral  sciences  ? The  subject  part  of 
mankind  in  most  places  might,  instead  thereof,  with  Egyptian  bondage  expect 
Egyptian  darkness,  were  not  the  candle  of  the  Lord  set  up  by  himself  in 
men’s  minds,  which  it  is  impossible  for  the  breath  or  power  of  man  wholly 
to  extinguish.”  1 

Though  he  denied  that  men  have  an  innate  knowledge  of  it,  Locke  con- 
sidered the  existence  of  God  to  be  “ the  most  obvious  truth  that  reason 
discovers,”  and  its  evidence  “ equal  to  mathematical  certainty ; ” and  his 
argument  to  this  effect,  though  not  in  itself  very  novel  or  noteworthy, 
acquired  importance  from  the  stir  that  it  caused  among  his  critics.  It  was 
based  on  the  assumption,  tolerably  safe,  though  not  demonstrable,  of  our 
own  existence. 

“ As  for  our  own  existence,”  he  said,  “ we  perceive  it  so  plainly  and  so 
certainly,  that  it  neither  needs  nor  is  capable  of  any  proof.  For  nothing 
can  be  more  evident  to  us  than  our  own  existence.  I think,  I reason,  I 
feel  pleasure  and  pain ; can  any  of  these  be  more  evident  to  me  than  my 


1 * Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  iii.,  §§  19,  20.  “ Grown 
old  and  stubborn,”  said  Hobbes,  in  a passage  as  characteristically  different 
in  expression  from  the  above  as  it  agrees  with  it  in  purport,  “ men  appeal 
from  custom  to  reason,  and  from  reason  to  custom,  as  it  serves  their  turn ; 
receding  from  custom  when  their  interest  requires  it,  and  setting  themselves 
against  reason  as  often  as  reason  is  against  them.  Which  is  the  cause  that 
the  doctrine  of  right  and  wrong  is  perpetually  disputed  both  by  the  men  and 
the  world,  whereas  the  doctrine  of  lines  and  figures  is  not  so ; because  men 
care  not  in  that  subject  what  be  truth,  as  a thing  that  crosses  no  man’s 
ambition,  profit,  or  lust.  For  I doubt  not  but,  if  it  had  been  a thing 
contrary  to  any  man’s  right  of  dominion,  or  to  the  interest  of  men  that  have 
dominion,  that  the  three  angles  of  a triangle  should  be  equal  to  two  angles 
of  a square,  that  doctrine  should  have  been,  if  not  disputed,  yet,  by  the 
burning  of  all  books  of  geometry,  suppressed  as  far  as  he  whom  it  con- 
cerned was  able.” — ‘ Leviathan,’  part  i.,  ch.  ii. 

Vol.  II. — 9 


130  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  x. 

own  existence  ? If  I doubt  of  all  other  things,  that  very  doubt  makes  me 
perceive  my  own  existence,  and  will  not  suffer  me  to  doubt  of  that.  For  if 
I know  I feel  pain,  it  is  evident  I have  as  certain  perception  of  my  own 
existence  as  of  the  existence  M the  pain  I feel ; or  if  I know  I doubt,  I have 
as  certain  perception  of  the  existence  of  the  thing  doubting  as  of  that  thought 
which  I call  doubt.  Experience  then  convinces  us  that  we  have  an  intuitive 
knowledge  of  our  own  existence  and  an  internal  infallible  perception  that 
we  are.  In  every  act  of  sensation,  reasoning,  or  thinking,  we  are  conscious 
to  ourselves  of  our  own  being,  and  in  this  matter  come  not  short  of  the 
highest  degree  of  certainty.”  1 

And,  if  we  are,  God  must  be.  Nothing  can  produce  nothing.  Man  could 
not  have  been  made  without  a maker,  and  that  maker  could  not  have  been 
made  unless  by  some  other  maker ; so  that,  however  far  back  we  trace  the 
process  of  making,  we  must  rest  at  last  on  an  eternal  and  unmade  “ some- 
thing.” This  “something”  could  not  have  made  other  things  without 
power,  could  not  have  endowed  them  with  knowledge  unless  it  was  itself 
possessed  of  knowledge.  “ Thus,  from  the  consideration  of  ourselves  and 
what  we  infallibly  find  in  our  own  constitutions,  our  reason  leads  us  to  the 
knowledge  of  this  certain  and  evident  truth,  that  there  is  an  eternal,  most 
powerful,  and  most  knowing  being  ; which,  whether  any  one  will  please  to 
call  God,  it  matters  not.  The  thing  is  evident ; and  from  this  idea,  duly 
considered,  will  easily  be  deduced  all  those  other  attributes  which  we  ought 
to  ascribe  to  this  eternal  being.”  2 

That  is  the  substance  of  Locke’s  argument,  expanded  by  various  illustra- 
tions, and  supplemented  by  digressions  into  the  cloudland  of  metaphysics 
in  hope  of  showing  that  the  original  “ something  ” must  have  been  cogitative 
and  must  therefore  have  been  immaterial.  These  digressions,  along  with 
other  passages  in  the  essay,  led  him  afterwards,  as  we  shall  see,  into 
tedious  and  unprofitable  controversy.  As  his  theism  only  brought  on  him 
the  charge  of  atheism,  and,  however  honestly  held  and  earnestly  enforced, 
could  only  be  based  on  hypotheses  beyond  the  reach  of  proof,  it  would  have 
been  better  had  he  more  strictly  applied  to  his  own  speculations  the  con- 
cluding sentences  of  his  chapter  on  ‘ our  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  a God,’ 
and  purged  even  them  of  their  latent  dogmatism.  “ It  is  an  overvaluing  of 
ourselves,”  he  there  said,  “ to  reduce  all  to  the  narrow  measure  of  our 
capacities,  and  to  conclude  all  things  impossible  to  be  done  whose  manner 
of  doing  exceeds  our  comprehension.  This  is  to  make  our  comprehension 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  ix.,  § 3. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  iv.,  ch.  x.,  §§  3 — 6. 


1687.  1 
2Et.  55.  J 


A METAPHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  THEOLOGY. 


131 


infinite,  or  God  finite,  when  what  he  can  do  is  limited  to  what  we  can 
conceive  of  it.  If  you  do  not  understand  the  operations  of  your  own  finite 
mind,  that  thinking  thing  within  you,  do  not  deem  it  strange  that  you  cannot 
comprehend  the  operations  of  that  eternal  infinite  mind  who  made  and 
governs  all  things  and  whom  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain.”  1 

Locke’s  philosophy  was  necessarily  tinged  if  not  biassed  by  his  theology. 
That,  however,  if  it  lessens  the  value  of  some  portions  of  his  great  work,  only 
makes  others  more  remarkable.  Thus,  near  the  close,  he  boldly  defined  the 
position  of  faith  in  relation  to  reason.  “ Reason,  as  contradistinguished  to 
faith,”  he  said,  “ I take  to  be  the  discovery  of  the  certainty  or  probability 
of  such  propositions  or  truths  as  the  mind  arrives  at  by  deduction  made  from 
the  ideas  which  it  has  got  by  the  use  of  its  natural  faculties,  namely,  by 
sensation  or  reflection.  Faith,  on  the  other  side,  is  the  assent  to  any  pro- 
position not  thus  made  out  by  the  deductions  of  reason,  but  upon  the  credit 
of  the  proposer  as  coming  immediately  from  God,  which  we  call  revelation.” 
He  then  specified  the  limits  that  must  be  set  to  the  authority  of  revelation. 
“ No  man,  inspired  by  God,”  he  held,  “ can,  by  any  revelation,  communicate 
to  others  any  new  simple  ideas  which  they  had  not  before  from  sensation  or 
reflection.”  He  considered  that  “ the  same  truths  may  be  discovered  and 
conveyed  down  from  revelation  which  are  discoverable  to  us  by  reason  and 
by  those  ideas  we  naturally  have ; ” but  was  of  opinion,  in  the  first  place, 
that  “ in  all  things  of  this  kind  there  is  little  need  or  use  of  revelation,  God 
having  furnished  us  with  a natural  and  surer  means  to  arrive  at  the  knowledge 
of  them,”  and,  in  the  second  place,  that  “ whatsoever  truths  we  come  to  this 
clear  discovery  of  from  the  knowledge  and  contemplation  of  our  own  ideas 
will  always  be  more  certain  to  us  than  those  which  are  conveyed  to  us  by 
traditional  revelation.”  2 In  effect,  though  we  may  not  deny  the  possibility 
of  revelations  being  made  in  anticipation  of  the  ordinary  and  orderly  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge,  we  may  not  believe  any  so-called  revelations  that  are 
opposed  to  reason,  and  those  we  may  accept  can  never  have  as  much 
authority  as  the  opinions  arrived  at  by  the  exercise  of  our  reason. 

“ In  propositions,  then,  whose  certainty  is  built  upon  clear  and  perfect 
ideas  and  evident  deductions  of  reason  we  need  not  the  assistance  of  reve- 
lation as  necessary  to  gain  our  assent  and  introduce  them  into  our  minds, 
because  the  natural  ways  of  knowledge  could  settle  them  there  or  had  done 
it  already,  which  is  the  greatest  assurance  we  can  possibly  have  of  anything, 


1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  x.,  § 19. 

2 Ibid.,  h.  iv.,  ch.  xviii.,  §§  2 — 4. 


132  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  x. 

unless  where  God  immediately  reveals  it  to  us ; and  there  too  our  assurance 
can  be  no  greater  than  our  knowledge  is  that  it  is  a revelation  from  God. 
But  yet  nothing,  I think,  can  under  that  title  shake  or  even  overrule  plain 
knowledge,  or  rationally  prevail  with  any  man  to  admit  it  for  true  in  direct 
contradiction  to  the  clear  evidence  of  his  own  understanding.  No  evidence 
of  our  faculties,  hy  which  we  receive  such  revelations,  can  exceed,  if  equal, 
the  certainty  of  our  intuitive  knowledge  ; and  therefore  no  proposition  can 
be  received  for  divine  revelation,  or  obtain  the  assent  due  to  all  such,  if  it  be 
contradictory  to  our  clear  and  intuitive  knowledge  ; because  this  would  be  to 
subvert  the  principles  and  foundations  of  all  knowledge,  evidence,  and  assent 
whatsoever,  and  there  would  be  left  no  difference  between  truth  and  false- 
hood, no  measures  of  credible  and  incredible  in  the  world,  if  doubtful  pro- 
positions should  take  place  before  self-evident,  and  what  we  certainly  know 
give  way  to  what  we  may  possibly  be  mistaken  in.  In  propositions,  there- 
fore, contrary  to  our  distinct  and  clear  ideas,  it  will  be  in  vain  to  urge  them 
as  matters  of  faith.  They  cannot  move  our  assent,  under  that  or  any  other 
title  whatsoever  : for  faith  can  never  convince  us  of  anything  that  contradicts 
our  knowledge,  because,  though  faith  be  founded  on  the  testimony  of  God, 
who  cannot  lie,  revealing  any  proposition  to  us,  yet  we  cannot  have  an 
assurance  of  the  truth  of  its  being  a divine  revelation  greater  than  our  own 
knowledge,  since  the  whole  strength  of  the  certainty  depends  upon  our 
knowledge  that  God  revealed  it,  which  in  this  case,  where  the  proposition 
supposed  revealed  contradicts  our  knowledge  or  reason,  will  always  have  this 
objection  hanging  to  it,  namely,  that  we  cannot  tell  how  to  conceive  that 
to  come  from  God,  the  bountiful  author  of  our  being,  which,  if  received  for 
true,  must  overturn  all  the  principles  and  foundations  of  knowledge  he  has 
given  us,  render  all  our  faculties  useless,  wholly  destroy  the  most  excellent 
part  of  his  workmanship,  our  understandings,  and  put  a man  in  a condition 
wherein  he  will  have  less  light,  less  conduct,  than  the  beast  that  perisheth.”  1 
Matters  above  reason,  but  not  contrary  to  it,  however, — such  as  the  state- 
ment that  “part  of  the  angels  rebelled  against  God  and  thereby  lost  their 
first  happy  estate,”  and  the  doctrine  that  “the  dead  shall  rise  and  live 
again,” — may  easily,  Locke  considered,  be  believed  on  the  testimony  of 
revelation,  if  the  truth  of  that  revelation  can  be  proved.  “ Thus  far  the 
dominion  of  faith  reaches ; and  that  without  any  violence  or  hindrance  to 
reason,  which  is  not  injured  or  disturbed,  but  assisted  and  improved,  by  new 
discoveries  of  truth  coming  from  the  eternal  fountain  of  all  knowledge. 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  xviii.,  § 5. 


1687.  "I 
i£t.  55.J 


FAITH  AND  REVELATION. 


133 


Whatever  God  hath  revealed  is  certainly  true  ; no  doubt  can  be  made  of  it. 
This  is  the  proper  object  of  faith  : but  whether  it  be  a divine  revelation  or 
no  reason  must  judge,  which  can  never  permit  the  mind  to  reject  a greater 
evidence  to  embrace  what  is  less  evident,  nor  allow  it  to  entertain  probability 
in  opposition  to  knowledge  and  certainty.  There  can  be  no  evidence  that 
any  traditional  revelation  is  of  divine  original,  in  the  words  we  receive  it  and 
in  the  sense  we  understand  it,  so  clear  and  so  certain  as  that  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  reason  ; and,  therefore,  nothing  that  is  contrary  to  and  inconsistent 
with  the  clear  and  self-evident  dictates  of  reason  has  a right  to  be  urged  or 
assented  to,  as  a matter  of  faith,  wherein  reason  hath  nothing  to  do.  What- 
soever is  divine  revelation,  ought  to  overrule  all  our  opinions,  prejudices, 
and  interests,  and  hath  a right  to  be  received  with  full  assent.  Such  a sub- 
mission as  this  of  our  reason  to  faith  takes  not  away  the  landmarks  of 
knowledge  : this  shakes  not  the  foundations  of  reason,  but  leaves  us  that  use 
of  our  faculties,  for  which  they  were  given  us.”  “ If  the  provinces  of  faith 
and  reason  are  not  kept  distinct  by  these  boundaries,”  he  said  finally,  “ there 
will,  in  matters  of  religion,  be  no  room  for  reason  at  all ; and  those  extrava- 
gant opinions  and  ceremonies  that  are  to  be  found  in  the  several  religions  of 
the  world  will  not  deserve  to  be  blamed.  For,  to  this  crying  up  of  faith 
in  opposition  to  reason,  we  may,  I think,  in  good  measure  ascribe  those 
absurdities  that  fill  almost  all  the  religions  which  possess  and  divide 
mankind.  For  men,  having  been  principled  with  an  opinion  that  they  must 
not  consult  reason  in  the  things  of  religion,  however  apparently  contradictory 
to  common  sense  and  the  very  principles  of  all  their  knowledge,  have  let 
loose  their  fancies  and  natural  superstition,  and  have  been  by  them  led  into 
so  strange  opinions  and  extravagant  practices  in  religion  that  a considerate 
man  cannot  but  stand  amazed  at  their  follies,  and  judge  them  so  far  from 
being  acceptable  to  the  great  and  wise  God  that  he  cannot  avoid  thinking 
them  ridiculous  and  offensive  to  a sober,  good  man.  So  that  in  effect 
religion,  which  should  most  distinguish  us  from  beasts  and  ought  most 
peculiarly  to  elevate  us  as  rational  creatures  above  brutes,  is  that  wherein 
men  often  appear  most  irrational,  and  more  senseless  than  beasts  themselves. 
« Credo,  quia  impossibile  est’ — ‘I  believe,  because  it  is  impossible,’  might  in 
a good  man  pass  for  a sally  of  zeal,  but  would  prove  a very  ill  rule  for  men 
to  choose  their  opinions  or  religion  by.”  1 

Locke  might  well  deplore  the  prevalence  of  error  in  matters  of  religion  as 
well  as  in  other  affairs  of  life  and  real  or  fancied  grounds  of  knowledge.  But 


1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  xviii.,  §§  10,  11. 


134  “concerning  human  understanding.”  tchap.x. 

he  could  be  sarcastically  charitable.  “ Notwithstanding  the  great  noise  made 
in  the  world  about  errors  and  opinions,”  he  said  in  almost  the  last  paragraph 
of  his  book,  “ I must  do  mankind  the  right  to  say  there  are  not  so  many  men 
in  errors  and  wrong  opinions  as  is  commonly  supposed.  Not  that  I think 
they  embrace  the  truth,  hut  indeed  because  concerning  those  doctrines  they 
keep  such  a stir  about  they  have  no  thought,  no  opinion  at  all.  For,  if  any 
one  should  a little  catechise  the  greatest  part  of  the  partizans  of  most  of  the 
sects  in  the  world,  he  would  not  find  concerning  those  matters  they  are  so 
zealous  for  that  they  have  any  opinions  of  their  own ; much  less  would  he 
have  reason  to  think  that  they  took  them  upon  the  examination  of  arguments 
and  appearance  of  probability.  They  are  resolved  to  stick  to  a party  that 
education  or  interest  has  engaged  them  in ; and  there,  like  the  common 
soldiers  of  an  army,  show  their  courage  and  warmth  as  their  leaders  direct, 
without  ever  examining,  or  so  much  as  knowing,  the  cause  they  contend  for. 
If  a man’s  life  shows  that  he  has  no  serious  regard  for  religion,  for  what 
reason  should  we  think  that  he  beats  his  head  about  the  opinions  of  his 
church  and  troubles  himself  to  examine  the  grounds  of  this  or  that  doctrine  ? 
It  is  enough  for  him  to  obey  his  leaders,  to  have  his  hand  and  his  tongue 
ready  for  the  support  of  the  common  cause,  and  thereby  approve  himself  to 
those  who  can  give  him  credit,  preferment,  or  protection  in  that  society. 
Thus  men  become  professors  of,  .and  combatants  for,  those  opinions  they 
were  never  convinced  of  nor  proselytes  to — no,  nor  ever  had  so  much  as 
floating  in  their  heads ; and  though  one  cannot  say  there  are  fewer  impro- 
bable or  erroneous  opinions  in  the  world  than  there  are,  yet  this  is  cer- 
tain, there  are  fewer  that  actually  assent  to  them  and  mistake  them  for  truths 
than  is  imagined.”  * 


In  the  foregoing  account  of  Locke’s  ‘ Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding,’  in  the  shape  in  which  he  first 
published  it,  effort  has  been  made  only  to  show  what  was 
its  general  scope  and  meaning  as  an  index  to  his  own 
mind  and  an  appeal  to  the  good  sense  of  the  readers  and 
thinkers  around  him.  “It  was  not  meant,”  he  said,  “for 
those  who  had  already  mastered  this  subject,  and  made  a 
thorough  acquaintance  with  their  own  understandings; 

1 1 Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  iv.,  ch.  xx.,  § 18. 


THE  VALUE  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


135 


Kisr.  1 
.ffit.  55.  J 

but  for  my  own  information  and  the  satisfaction  of  a few 
friends  who  acknowledged  themselves  not  to  have  suffi- 
ciently considered  it ; ” and  he  only  offered  it  to  a wider 
circle  because  he  thought  that  perhaps  it  might  be  useful 
“in  clearing  the  ground  a little  and  removing  some  of 
the  rubbish  that  lies  in  the  way  to  knowledge.”1  He 
professed  to  give  in  it  no  more  than  the  results  of  his 
own  long  and  honest  inquiries  into  the  working  of  his  own 
mind  and  the  minds  of  those  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
tact or  could  get  information  about  from  books.  He 
would  have  been  the  first  to'  acknowledge  his  obligations 
to  the  many  writers  of  his  own  and  earlier  days  who  had 
propounded  to  him  doctrines  or  offered  to  him  suggestions 
that  he  found  worth  accepting ; but  he  could  fairly  claim 
that  all  the  thoughts  he  had  derived  from  others  had 
been  made  his  own  by  the  careful  consideration  that  he 
gave  to  them  and  by  the  altered  form  that  they  generally 
assumed  in  his  mind,  and  that,  by  combining  these 
thoughts  of  others  with  his  own  more  strictly  original 
opinions,  he  had  built  up  a structure  that  was  altogether 
his  own  workmanship.2 

1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  Epistle  to  the  Reader. 

2 It  must  be  remembered  that  the  work  grew  up  gradually  as  a private 
exercise  not  intended  for  publication.  Had  Locke  from  the  first  meant  to 
publish  it,  however,  be  would  probably  have  taken  no  greater  care  than  be 
did  to  specify  bis  debts  to  earlier  thinkers.  In  not  specifying  bis  debts,  be 
only  did  as  all  other  writers  then  did.  When  any  author  bad  to  be  criticised 
or  quoted  as  a distinct  authority  for  any  statement  or  view,  be  was  referred 
to ; but  when  bis  opinions  were  adopted,  with  or  without  modification,  it 
was  no  more  thought  incumbent  on  the  writer  who  did  so  to  specify  the 
obligation  than  it  would  now  be  expected  of  any  one  that  be  should  inform 
the  public  concerning  the  builder  of  bis  bouse  or  the  maker  of  bis  clothes. 

A different  and  a very  commendable  rule  has  since  come  into  force  ; but  they 
who  charge  Locke  or  other  writers  with  not,  at  every  turn,  quoting  their 
‘ authorities”  show  an  entire  ignorance  of  the  custom  of  the  times.  I 


136  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  X. 

The  great  value  of  the  essay  consisted  in  the  freshness 
and  force  with  which  it  set  itself  against  the  so-called 
Aristotelianism  and  scholasticism  that  had  crippled  men’s 
intelligence  throughout  many  centuries,  and  also  against 
the  new  sort  of  dogmatism  encouraged  by  Descartes  and 
growing  rapidly  into  favour  with  many  besides  the  Carte- 
sians. Much  in  it  has  been  superseded ; much  else  has  been 
renovated.  Many  faults  in  it,  which  Locke  himself  might 
have  corrected,  can  be  pointed  out  by  any  tyro  in  psycho- 
logical studies,  and  there  are  yet  more  numerous  faults 
which,  however  apparent  now,  no  honest  critic  can  blame 
him  for  having  fallen  into.  But  these  detract  nothing 
from  the  importance  of  the  work  as  the  chief  leader  of  the 
modern  philosophical  revolution,  the  greatest  stimulant 
of  modern  thought  that  European  literature  can  boast  of.1 

had  intended  in  this  section  to  distinguish,  as  regards  the  more  important 
passages  in  his  work,  Locke’s  obligations  to  others  and  his  own  most 
original  views.  To  do  this  at  all  adequately,  however,  would  be  such  a 
lengthy  task,  involving  so  many  quotations,  and,  when  done,  the  result 
would  be  so  much  more  appropriate  to  a new  edition  than  to  a brief  popular 
description  of  the  essay,  that  I shall  uot  here  venture  upon  it.  The  same 
remark  applies  with  yet  more  force  to  the  much  larger  task  of  endeavouring 
to  trace  in  detail  Locke’s  influence  upon  subsequent  philosophical  thought. 

1 Were  Locke  living  now,  he  would  probably  be  hardly  more  pained  to 
find  many  eminent  teachers  still  enforcing  dogmas  that  he  sufficiently  con- 
troverted than  to  find  his  essay  used,  as  it  still  is  in  the  university  of 
Dublin,  as  the  only  text-book  and  authority  on  the  subject  of  which  it  treats. 
“The  book,”  said  John  Stuart  Mill,  “which  has  changed  the  face  of  a 
science,  even  when  not  superseded  in  its  doctrines,  is  seldom  suitable  for 
didactic  purposes.  It  is  adapted  to  the  state  of  mind,  not  of  those  who  are 
ignorant  of  every  doctrine,  but  of  those  who  are  instructed  in  an  erroneous 
doctrine.  So  far  as  it  is  taken  up  with  directly  combating  the  errors  which 
prevailed  before  it  was  written,  the  more  completely  it  has  done  its  work, 
the  more  certain  it  is  of  becoming  superfluous,  not  to  say  unintelligible, 
without  a commentary.  And  even  its  positive  truths  are  defended  against 
such  objections  only  as  were  current  in  its  own  times,  and  guarded  only 


1687.  "I 
.fit.  55. J 


THE  VALUE  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


137 


The  most  evident  blemish  of  the  work,  and  the  only 
one  that  need  now  he  referred  to,  was  the  occasional 
vagueness  and  inconsistency  of  its  phraseology.  Locke 

against  such  misunderstandings  as  the  people  of  those  times  were  likely  to 
fall  into.  Questions  of  morals  and  metaphysics  differ  from  physical  ques- 
tions in  this,  that  their  aspect  changes  with  every  change  in  the  human 
mind.  At  no  two  periods  is  the  same  question  embarrassed  by  the  same 
difficulties,  or  the  same  truth  in  need  of  the  same  explanatory  comment. 
The  fallacy  which  is  satisfactorily  refuted  in  one  age  reappears  in  another 
in  a shape  which  the  arguments  formerly  used  do  not  precisely  meet,  and 
seems  to  triumph  until  some  one,  with  weapons  suitable  to  the  altered  form 
of  the  error,  arises  and  repeats  its  overthrow.  These  remarks  are  peculiarly 
applicable  to  Locke’s  essay.  His  doctrines  were  new  and  had  to  make 
their  way ; he  therefore  wrote  not  for  learners,  but  for  the  learned  ; for 
men  who  were  trained  in  the  systems  antecedent  to  his — in  those  of  the 
schoolmen  or  of  the  Cartesians.  He  said  what  he  thought  necessary  to 
establish  his  own  opinions,  and  answered  the  objections  of  such  objectors 
as  the  age  afforded ; but  he  could  not  anticipate  all  the  objections  which 
might  be  made  by  a subsequent  age  ; least  of  all  could  he  anticipate  those 
which  would  be  made  now,  when  his  philosophy  has  long  been  the  prevalent 
one  ; when  the  arguments  of  objectors  have  been  rendered  as  far  as  possible 
consistent  with  his  principles,  and  are  often  such  as  could  not  have  been 
thought  of  until  he  had  cleared  the  ground  by  demolishing  some  received 
opinion  which  no  one  before  him  had  thought  of  disputing.  To  attack 
Locke,  therefore,  because  other  arguments  than  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
use  have  become  requisite  to  the  support  of  some  of  his  conclusions  is  like 
reproaching  the  Evangelists  because  they  did  not  write  evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity. . . . No  work,  a hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  can  be  fit  to  be  tlie 
sole  or  even  the  principal  work  for  the  instruction  of  youth  in  a science  like 
that  of  mind.  In  metaphysics  every  new  truth  sets  aside  or  modifies  much 
of  what  was  previously  received  as  truth.  Berkeley’s  refutation  of  the 
doctrine  of  abstract  ideas  would  of  itself  necessitate  a complete  revision  of 
the  phraseology  of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  Locke's  book.  And  the  im- 
portant speculations  originated  by  Hume  and  improved  by  Brown,  concerning 
the  nature  of  our  experience,  are  acknowledged,  even  hy  the  philosophers 
who  do  not  adopt  in  their  full  extent  the  conclusions  of  those  writers,  to 
have  carried  the  analysis  of  our  knowledge  and  of  the  process  of  acquiring 
it  so  much  beyond  the  point  where  Locke  left  it  as  to  require  that  his  work 


138  “CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.”  [Chap.  x. 

had  a healthy  contempt  for  the  meaningless  definitions 
and  pompous  nonsense  of  the  scholastic  writers  whom  he 
chiefly  opposed  ; but  that  contempt  caused  him  to  err  in 
too  much  effort  to  set  forth  his  thoughts  in  words  with 
which  every  one  was  familiar,  and  thus,  from  an  opposite 
motive,  sometimes  to  commit  the  same  sort  of  blunder  for 
which  he.  blamed  his  adversaries. 

“I  am  apt  to  think,”  he  said,  “that  men,  when  they 
come  to  examine  them,  find  their  simple  ideas  all  generally 
to  agree,  though  in  discourse  with  one  another  they  per- 
haps confound  one  another  with  different  names.  I 
imagine  that  men  who  abstract  their  thoughts,  and  do 
well  examine  the  ideas  of  their  own  minds,  cannot  much 
differ  in  thinking,  however  they  may  perplex  themselves 
with  words  according  to  the  way  of  speaking  of  the  several 
schools  or  sects  they  have  been  bred  up  in,  though 
amongst  unthinking  men,  who  examine  not  scrupulously 
and  carefully  their  own  ideas,  and  strip  them  not  from  the 
marks  men  use  for  them,  but  confound  them  with  words, 
there  must  be  endless  dispute,  wrangling  and  jargon, 
especially  if  they  be  learned  bookish  men,  devoted  to 
some  sect  and  accustomed  to  the  language  of  it.”  No 
one  was  ever  more  careful  than  Locke  to  avoid  wrangling 
and  jargon  ; but  in  his  determination  to  do  that  he  often 
fell  into  slipshod  ways  of  writing,  and,  what  was  more 
serious,  even  of  thought.  “ It  is  not  easy  for  the  mind,” 
he  said,  “ to  put  off  those  confused  notions  and  prejudices 
it  has  imbibed  from  custom,  inadvertency  and  common 
conversation ; it  requires  pains  and  assiduity  to  examine 

should  be  entirely  recast.” — An  article  on  ‘Professor  Sedgwick’s  Discourse 
on  the  Studies  of  the  University  of  Cambridge,’  in  the  London  Eeview, 
April,  1835 ; reprinted  in  ‘ Dissertations  and  Discussions,’  vol.  i.  (1867), 
pp.  114-117. 


1687.  I 
■ffit.  65  J 


THE  VALUE  OF  THE  ESSAY. 


139 


its  ideas,  until  it  resolves  them  into  those  clear  and  dis- 
tinct simple  ones  out  of  which  they  are  compounded,  and 
to  see  which,  amongst  his  simple  ones,  have,  or  have 
not,  a necessary  connection  and  dependence  one  upon 
another.  Until  a man  doth  this  in  the  primary  and 
original  notion  of  things,  he  builds  upon  floating  and 
uncertain  principles,  and  will  often  find  himself  at  a 
loss.”  1 

Had  Locke  been  careful  to  observe  his  own  canon,  he 
might  have  saved  himself  from  much  controversy  in  later 
years,  or  at  least  have  compelled  those  opponents  who 
built  frivolous  arguments  upon  his  verbal  inconsistencies 
to  find  some  better  groundwork  for  their  attacks. 


Though  much  hindered  by  other  work  which  he  deemed 
more  urgent,  and  also  by  the  damage  which  that  work 
caused  to  his  health,  Locke  was  anxious,  after  his  return 
to  England,  to  publish  the  essay  which  he  had  been  so 

1 ‘ Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii. , ch,  xiii.,  § 28.  It  would  be 
hypercritical  to  make  much  complaint  about  Locke’s  uncertain  use  even  ot 
the  most  important  word  in  the  title  of  his  work  ; but  this  illustrates  the 
frequent  vagueness  of  his  phraseology.  His  purpose  was  evidently  to  make 
a searching  inquiry  “ concerning  human  understanding,”  that  is,  concerning 
man’s  faculty  or  faculties  of  receiving  and  forming  ideas  and  thus  acquiring 
knowledge  ; but  his  treatise  is  made  one  “ concerning  the  human  under- 
standing,” that  is,  the  mind  or  intellect,  the  thing  that  understands.  Some 
psychologists,  of  course,  would  say  that  there  is  no  difference  between 
“understanding”  and  “the  understanding,”  that  the  mind  is  simply  a 
bundle  of  ideas,  and  only  comes  into  existence  by  the  aggregation  of 
thoughts  and  feelings  derived  from  bodily  sensations  ; but  Locke  did  not 
think  so:  the  mind  to  him  was  at  starting  a “tabula  rasa,”  or  a “yet 
empty  cabinet,”  a something  capable  of  taking  in  ideas,  and  he  ought  there- 
fore to  have  steadily  discriminated  in  his  hook  between  the  understanding 
and  its  powers  of  understanding. 


140 


CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 


[Chap.  X. 


U 


jj 


long  in  writing.  He  wrote  Iris  “ epistle  dedicatory  ” to 
tire  Earl  of  Pembroke,  in  May,  1689, 1 and  lie  set  the 
printers  to  work  as  soon  as  be  could. 

“ Very  little  is  doing  now  among  us  in  tbe  republic  of 
letters,”  he  wrote  to  Limborck  in  August ; “ we  are  all 
so  busy  about  politics ; but  in  this  dearth  of  books  I am 
submitting  my  treatise  ‘ de  intellect!!  ’ to  the  criticism  of 
those  Mends  who  are  weak  enough  to  read  it.  I have 
sent  ” — evidently  the  proof-sheets  of — “ the  first  book  to 
Mr.  Le  Clerc.”2  “To-day,”  he  wrote  on  the  3rd  of 
December,  “ I hope  that  the  last  sheet  will  be  in  type  : so 
at  least  the  printers  have  promised,  but  whether  any 
reliance  is  to  be  placed  on  the  word  of  these  sort  of  men 
I cannot  say.  I wish  the  work  were  written  in  such  a 
language  that,  now  that  it  is  in  a complete  form,  you 
could  pass  judgment  upon  it  : for  I know  your  perfect 
honesty  and  wonderful  acuteness.  If  it  comes  to  be 
translated  into  Latin,  I fear  you  will  find  many  faults  in 
it.  But  the  die  is  cast,  and  I am  now  launched  on  the 
wide  ocean.”  “ I sent  Mr.  Le  Clerc,”  he  added  in  the 
same  letter,  “ my  second  and  third  books,  as  well  as  I can 
recollect,  in  September.  I shall  send  him  the  rest  very 
soon,  and  I hope  he  will  return  the  proofs  as  quickly  as 
he  can,  in  order  that  I may  adopt  his  corrections.  ‘ Finito 
jam  termino  exspecto,’  as  our  special  pleaders  say.  As 


1 The  dedication  is  not  dated  in  the  first  edition,  but  “ Dorset  Court, 
24th  of  May,  1689,”  appears  in  the  second  and  later  editions.  According 
to  Rufihead,  Pope’s  biographer,  “ Mr.  Pope  used  to  say  the  only  thing  he 
could  never  forgive  his  philosophic  master  was  the  dedication  to  the 
‘ Essay.’  ” Seeing  how  much  it  was  the  rule  to  write  fulsome  dedications, 
Locke  may  certainly  be  forgiven  ; but  every  one  must  regret  that  he  thought 
fit  to  publish  such  exaggerated  compliments. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  7 Aug.,  1689. 


iEt6S56-57.]  THE  PRINTING  OF  THE  FIEST  EDITION.  141 

soon  as  I receive  the  proof  of  the  table  of  contents  I 
shall  write  to  Mr.  Le  Clerc.”  1 

Those  sentences  show  with  what  careful  interest  Locke 
was  arranging  for  the  publication  of  his  ‘ Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding.’  The  first  edition  was  in  the 
booksellers’  shops  early  in  1690.  Locke’s  name  was  not 
on  the  title-page,  but  appended  to  the  dedication.  It  was 
“printed  by  Eliz.  Holt,  for  Thomas  Basset,  at  the  George 
in  Fleet  Street,  near  St.  Dunstan’s  Church.” 

For  the  copyright  of  the  work  which  he  had  been 
preparing  during  so  many  years  Locke  received  T30.2 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  3 Dec.  [1689]. 

2 Lord  King,  p.  265. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


In  Aid  of  the  Revolution, 
[1689—1692.] 


ANDING  at  Torbay  on  the  5th  of  November,  1688, 


William  of  Orange  came  ostensibly  only  to  persuade 
his  father-in-law,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  to  rule  Eng- 
land according  to  law ; but  no  one  was  deceived  as  to  his 
intentions.  It  was  clear  that  he  either  must  be  driven 
back  as  a usurper,  or  must  drive  the  traitor-king  from  the 
throne.  James  the  Second  did  not  wait  for  much  pres- 
sure, and  William  had  little  more  to  do  than  leisurely  to 
march  up  to  London,  and  there  make  terms  with  the 
irregular  parliament  that  he  had  convened. 

Some  very  useful  and  some  rather  discreditable  diplo- 
macy had  to  be  gone  through  between  the  day  of  William’s 
arrival  and  the  day  on  which  his  wife  joined  him  at 
Whitehall ; but  with  the  history,  well  known  in  the 
outline  and  in  many  of  its  details,  of  those  three  months 
we  need  not  here  concern  ourselves,  especially  as  we  know 
nothing  of  Locke’s  connection  with  it.  We  can  do  little 
more  than  guess  as  to  the  extent  of  Locke’s  share  in  the 
earlier  stage  of  the  Revolution,  though  that  he  had  some 
considerable  share  therein  is  quite  certain ; and  it  seems 
clear  that  he  had  no  direct  share  at  all  in  this  second 
stage.  Any  advice  he  may  have  given  to  Lord  Mordaunt 


Jfse.]  THE  ACCESSION  of  william  and  mary.  143 

and  others  must  have  been  given  before  the  prince  and 
bis  chief  advisers  left  Holland,  and,  whatever  that  advice, 
whether  followed  or  neglected,  he  only  came  to  participate 
personally  in  the  work  after  the  prince  had  virtually 
become  king.  The  part  waiting  to  he  taken  by  him, 
however,  was  a large  one,  and  more  was  expected  of  him 
than  he  felt  able  to  do. 

On  Wednesday,  the  13th  of  February,  1688-9,  the  day 
after  the  Princess  Mary’s  arrival,  with  Locke  as  one  of 
her  company,  she  and  her  husband  were  visited  at  White- 
hall by  the  lords  and  commons,  who  formally  tendered 
to  them  the  throne  that  had  been  vacated  by  James  the 
Second ; and  on  the  same  day  the  new  sovereigns  were 
proclaimed.  Within  a week  of  that  memorable  turning- 
point  in  our  history,  Locke  received  a remarkable  proposal 
from  King  William . 

William’s  first  business  was  to  fill  up  the  ministerial 
and  other  ofiices  through  which  public  affairs  were  to  be 
conducted,  and  not  the  least  of  his  early  difficulties  was 
the  selecting  from  the  clamorous  crowd  of  influential  men 
who  had  helped  him  to  success,  and  who  now  looked  for 
rewards,  of  persons  suitable  for  the  vacant  posts.  He 
certainly  was  at  no  loss  for  candidates,  and  he  seriously 
embarrassed  his  prospects  by  selecting  from  them,  as  he 
felt  it  necessary  to  do,  many  whose  claims  were  based 
upon  their  influence  in  the  country  rather  than  upon  them 
fitness  for  responsible  public  work.  He  offended  many 
by  taking  upon  himself  the  management  of  foreign  affairs, 
and  he  must  have  given  further  offence  by  offering  one  of 
the  most  important  positions  under  him  to  a man — one 
who,  as  a popular  politician,  was  so  insignificant,  and 
indeed  so  utterly  unknown  as  Locke.  That  he  should 
have  done  this  is  certainly  a very  notable  evidence  of  the 


144 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


higli  opinion  he  had  formed  of  Locke’s  capacity  for  good 
and  loyal  work,  and  thus,  by  inference,  clear  proof  that, 
while  they  were  in  Holland  together,  he  had  had  satis- 
factory experience  of  the  philosopher’s  abilities  as  a 
statesman. 

An  ambassador  had  to  he  sent  to  Frederick  the  Third, 
the  new  elector  of  Brandenburg,  who  in  1701  was,  as 
Frederick  the  First,  to  begin  the  new  kingdom  of  Prussia, 
and  who  was  already  King  William’s  ablest  and  most 
honest  ally  in  opposition  to  Louis  the  Fourteenth ; and  a 
man  of  rare  talents  and  rarer  virtues  was  needed  for  the 
post.  Through  Lord  Mordaunt  it  was  offered  to  Locke, 
apparently  on  the  afternoon  of  the  20th  of  February,  just 
a week  after  William’s  accession  and  the  very  day  on 
which  the  new  privy  council  was  formed.  At  Mordaunt’s 
chambers  in  Whitehall,  Locke  wrote  this  characteristic 
letter  on  the  21st : — - 

“ My  Lord, — I cannot  but  in  the  highest  degree  be  sensible  of  the  great 
honour  his  majesty  has  done  me  in  those  gracious  intentions  towards  me 
which  I have  understood  from  your  lordship  ; and  it  is  the  most  touching 
displeasure  I have  ever  received  from  that  weak  and  broken  constitution  of 
my  health  which  has  so  long  threatened  my  life,  that  it  now  affords  me  not 
a body  suitable  to  my  mind  in  so  desirable  an  occasion  of  serving  his  majesty. 
I make  account  every  Englishman  is  bound  in  conscience  and  gratitude  not 
to  content  himself  with  a bare,  slothful,  and  inactive  loyalty  where  his  purse, 
his  head,  or  his  hand  may  be  of  any  use  to  this  our  great  deliverer.  He 
has  ventured  and  done  too  much  for  us  to  leave  room  for  inditferency  or 
backwardness  in  any  one  who  would  avoid  the  reproach  and  contempt  of  all 
mankind.  And  if  with  the  great  concerns  of,  my  country  and  all  Christendom 
I may  be  permitted  to  mix  so  mean  a consideration  as  my  own  private 
thoughts,  I can  truly  say  that  the  particular  veneration  I have  for  his  person 
carries  me  beyond  an  ordinary  zeal  for  his  service.  Besides  this,  my  lord, 
I am  not  so  ignorant  as  not  to  see  the  great  advantages  of  what  is  proposed 
to  me.  There  is  honour  in  it  enough  to  satisfy  an  ambition  greater  than 
mine,  and  a step  to  the  making  my  fortune  which  I could  not  have  expected. 
These  are  temptations  that  would  not  suffer  me  easily  to  decline  so  eminent 


1 BS9.  "I 
JEt.  56  J 


AN  AMBASSADORSHIP  REFUSED. 


145 


a favour,  as  the  other  are  obligations  to  a forward  obedience  in  all  things, 
where  there  are  hopes  it  may  not  be  unuseful. 

“But  such  is  the  misfortune  of  my  circumstances,  that  I cannot 
accept  the  honour  that  is  designed  me  without  rendering  myself  utterly 
unworthy  of  it.  And,  however  tempting  it  be,  I cannot  answer  to 
myself  or  the  world  my  embracing  a trust  which  I may  be  in  danger  to 
betray  even  by  my  entering  upon  it.  This  I shall  certainly  be  guilty  of,  it 
1 do  not  give  your  lordship  a true  account  of  myself,  and  what  I foresee 
maybe  prejudicial  to  his  majesty’s  affairs. 

“ My  lord,  the  post  that  is  mentioned  to  me  is  at  this  time,  if  I mistake 
not,  one  of  the  busiest  and  most  important  in  all  Europe,  and,  therefore, 
would  require  not  only  a man  of  common  sense  and  good  intentions,  but 
one  whom  experience  in  the  methods  of  such  business  has  fitted  with  skill 
and  dexterity  to  deal  with,  not  only  the  reasons  of  able,  but  the  more  dan- 
gerous artifices  of  cunning  men,  that  in  such  stations  must  be  expected  and 
mastered.  But,  my  lord,  supposing  industry  and  good-will  would  in  time 
work  a man  into  some  degree  of  capacity  and  fitness,  what  will  they  be 
able  to  do  with  a body  that  hath  not  health  and  strength  enough  to  comply 
with  them  ? what  shall  a man  do  in  the  necessity  of  application  and  variety 
of  attendance  on  business  to  be  followed  there,  who  sometimes,  after  a little 
motion,  has  not  breath  to  speak,  and  cannot  borrow  an  hour  or  two  of 
watching  from  the  night  without  repaying  it  with  a great  waste  of  time  the 
next  day  ? Were  this  a conjuncture  wherein  the  affairs  of  Europe  went 
smooth,  or  a little  mistake  in  management  would  not  be  soon  felt,  but  that 
the  diligence  or  change  of  the  minister  might  timely  enough  recover  it,  I 
should  perhaps  think  I might,  without  being  unpardonably  faulty,  venture 
to  try  my  strength  and  make  an  experiment  so  much  to  my  advantage. 
But  I have  a quite  other  view  of  the  state  of  things  at  present,  and  the 
urgency  of  affairs  comes  on  so  quick  that  there  was  never  such  need  of 
successful  diligence  and  hands  capable  of  despatch  as  now.  The  dilatory 
methods  and  slow  proceedings,  to  say  no  worse  of  what  I cannot  without 
indignation  reflect  on,  in  some  of  my  countrymen,  at  a season  when  there 
is  not  a moment  of  time  lost  without  endangering  the  protestant  and  English 
interest  throughout  Europe,  and  which  have  already  put  things  too  far  back, 
make  me  justly  dread  the  thought  that  my  weak  constitution  should  in  so 
considerable  a post  any  way  clog  his  majesty’s  affairs ; and  I think  it  much 
better  that  I should  be  laid  by  to  be  forgotten  for  ever  than  that  they  should 
at  all  suffer  by  my  ambitiously  and  forwardly  undertaking  what  my  want  of 
health  or  experience  would  not  let  me  manage  to  the  best  advantage ; for  I 

Vol.  II. 10 


146 


IN  AID  OF  THE  HE  VOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


must  again  tell  your  lordship  that,  however  unable  I might  prove,  there  will 
not  be  time  in  this  crisis  to  call  me  home  and  send  another. 

“ If  I have  reason  to  apprehend  the  cold  air  of  the  country,  there  is  yet 
another  thing  in  it  as  inconsistent  with  my  constitution,  and  that  is,  their 
warm  drinking.  I confess  obstinate  refusal  may  break  pretty  well  through 
it,  but  that  at  best  will  be  hut  to  take  more  care  of  my  own  health  than  the 
king’s  business.  It  is  no  small  matter  in  such  stations  to  be  acceptable  to 
the  people  one  has  to  do  with,  in  being  able  to  accommodate  one’s  self  to 
their  fashions  ; and  I imagine,  whatever  I may  do  there  myself,  the  knowing 
what  others  are  doing  is  at  least  one  half  of  my  business,  and  I know  no 
such  rack  in  the  world  to  draw  out  men’s  thoughts  as  a well-managed  bottle. 
If,  therefore,  it  were  fit  for  me  to  advise  in  this  case,  I should  think  it  more 
for  the  king’s  interest  to  send  a man  of  equal  parts,  that  could  drink,  his 
share,  than  the  soberest  man  in  the  kingdom. 

“I  beseech  you,  my  lord,  to  look  on  this,  not  as  the  discourse  of  a modest 
or  lazy  man,  but  of  one  who  has  truly  considered  himself,  and,  above  all 
things,  wishes  well  to  the  designs  which  his  majesty  has  so  gloriously  begun 
for  the  redeeming  England,  and  with  it  all  Europe,  and  I wish  for  no  other 
happiness  in  this  world  but  to  see  it  completed,  and  shall  never  be  sparing 
of  my  mite  where  it  may  contribute  any  way  to  it ; which  I am  confident 
your  lordship  is  sufficiently  assured  of,  and  therefore  I beg  leave  to  tell 
your  lordship  that  if  there  be  anything  wherein  I may  flatter  myself  I have 
attained  any  degree  of  capacity  to  serve  his  majesty,  it  is  in  some  little 
knowledge  I perhaps  may  have  in  the  constitutions  of  my  country,  the 
temper  of  my  countrymen,  and  the  divisions  amongst  them,  whereby  I per- 
suade myself  I may  be  more  useful  to  him  at  home,  though  I cannot  but 
see  that  such  an  employment  would  be  of  greater  advantage  to  myself 
abroad,  would  but  my  health  consent  to  it. 

“ My  lord,  missing  your  lordship  at  your  lodging  this  morning,  I have 
taken  the  liberty  to  leave  you  my  thoughts  in  writing,  being  loth  that  in 
anything  that  depends  on  me  there  should  he  a moment’s  delay,  a thing 
which  at  this  time  I look  on  as  so  criminal  in  others. 

“ I am,  my  lord,  your  lordship’s  most  humble  and  most  obedient  servant, 

“ J.  Locke.”  1 

Probably  that  letter  was  unique  among  all  the  answers 
that  were  received  by  King  William  or  his  deputies  to 
offers  of  lucrative  employment  under  the  crown  either  at 
1 Lord  King,  p.  173;  Locke  to  Mordaunt,  21  Feb.,  1G88-9. 


^|6]  COMMISSIONER  OF  APPEALS.  147 

home  or  abroad.  But  it  did  not  satisfy  the  king.  So 
honest  a man,  thought  his  majesty,  must  not  he  dis- 
pensed with.  Other  messages,  accordingly,  were  sent  to 
Locke.  If  Cleve  and  Berlin  were  too  cold  for  him,  he  was 
invited  to  go  to  Yienna,  where  he  need  he  in  no  fear  of 
the  weather ; nay,  let  him  name  his  own  place,  and,  if 
possible,  it  should  be  assigned  to  him.1  But  Locke  was 
resolute.  He  could  not  trust  in  his  health  being  sound 
enough  anywhere  for  him  to  do  such  work  as  such  a king 
as  William  deserved  from  a loyal  subject  and  patriotic 
citizen,  and  he  persisted  in  declining  to  take  any  diplo- 
matic employment. 

Locke  had  a claim  for  arrears,  amounting  to  a good 
deal  more  than  1000k,  of  the  salary  that  he  had  earned  as 
secretary  to  the  old  council  of  trade  and  plantations  under 
Charles  the  Second,  and,  following  the  example  set  by  a 
multitude  of  other  creditors  of  the  crown,  he  petitioned, 
soon  after  King  William’s  accession,  for  the  payment  of 
this  debt. 2 Finding,  however,  that  the  exchequer  was  so 
empty  that  no  old  debts  could  he  paid,  and  also  that  the 
king’s  advisers,  and  Lord  Mordaunt  especially,  were  de- 
termined to  have  him  connected  in  some  way  with  the 
public  service,  he  agreed  to  a compromise.  The  claim 
for  arrears  was  withdrawn  and  in  May  he  accepted  an 
appointment  as  commissioner  of  appeals,  “ a place  hon- 
ourable enough  for  any  gentleman,  though  of  no  greater 
value  than  200k  per  annum,”  said  Lady  Masham,  “ and 
suitable  to  Mr.  Locke  on  account  that  it  required  but 
little  attendance.” 3 This  post,  not  quite  a sinecure, 

-1  MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 
Jan.,  1704-5.  2 See  vol.  i.,  p.  293. 

3 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 

Jan.  1704-5. 


148 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


appears  to  have  been  retained  by  him  through  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life. 

It  was  procured  for  him  by  Lord  Mordannt,  wdiom  for 
the  next  eight  years  we  must  know  as  the  Earl  of  Mon- 
mouth, he  having  been  raised  to  the  new  dignity  on  the 
9th  of  April,  and  bearing  the  fresh  title  till  1697,  when, 
on  the  death  of  his  uncle,  he  succeeded  to  another  as  Earl 
of  Peterborough.  The  friendship  that  now  and  hence- 
forth existed  between  this  young  nobleman  and  Locke  is 
curious,  and  it  is  necessary  we  should  remember  that, 
though  through  their  difference  in  social  rank  the  younger 
man  was  regarded  as  in  some  sort  the  patron  of  the  elder, 
them  relations  were  really  those  of  disciple  and  instructor 
or  guide.  It  would  have  been  better  for  Monmouth’s 
fame  and  happiness  had  he  paid  more  heed  to  his  friend’s 
instructions,  or  rather  sought  from  him  guidance  not  only 
as  to  his  conduct  just  at  this  time,  but  also  as  to  the  way 
in  which  he  should  fit  himself  to  be  a wise  and  consistent 
statesman  in  later  years  ; but  he  possessed  many  qualities 
that  reasonably  endeared  him  to  Locke.  A dashing  sailor, 
he  had  shown  himself,  while  yet  in  his  teens,  a worthy 
inheritor  of  the  dare-devil  spirit  that  animated  Drake  and 
his  peers,  and  to  the  temper  proper  to  a brave  seaman  he 
added  the  same  sort  of  ill-regulated  zeal  in  political  and 
other  concerns  that  was  displayed  by  Cochrane,  the 
greatest  of  all  Drake’s  followers.  His  bitterest  enemies, 
however,  could  not  deny  that  he  was  chivalrously  gen- 
erous, and  their  worst  charges  against  him  amount  to 
little  more  than  that  he  was  recklessly  impulsive.  The 
uncurbed  virtue  and  the  irrepressible  vice  caused  him 
much  trouble  in  later  life ; but  the  punishment  that  he 
brought  upon  himself  ought  surely  to  make  modern  critics 
somewhat  lenient  towards  his  faults.  Those  faults,  more- 


RELATIONS  WITH  THE  EAEL  OF  MONMOUTH. 


149 


over,  were  not  very  apparent  in  Locke’s  day,  and  least 
of  all  in  the  time  shortly  before  and  shortly  after  King 
William’s  accession.  His  greatest  offences  just  now  were 
that,  like  Locke,  he  was  too  extreme  a latitudinarian 
to  please  such  cautious  churchmen  as  Burnet,  and,  also 
like  Locke,  too  bold  a reformer  to  please  such  cautious 
whigs  as  Halifax. 

A short  letter  which  Locke  wrote  five  weeks  after  his  re- 
turn to  England  gives  us  some  information  about  his  health 
and  temper  at  this  time,  and  shows  us  that,  though  he  had 
come  back  as  a courtier  in  the  best  sense  and  an  honoured 
statesman  to  the  England  that  he  had  quitted  as  an  exile, 
he  was  the  same  man  still,  and  anxious  to  strengthen  old 
ties  of  affection  which  neither  time  nor  distance  had 
broken.  The  address  has  been  torn  off,  but  it  appears  to 
have  been  written  to  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Gfrigg,  whose 
husband  had  been  an  intimate  friend  of  Simon  Patrick, 
the  excellent  bishop  of  Ely  here  referred  to. 

Dear  Sister, — Now  I am  come  to  England,  where  I had  promised 
myself  a full  satisfaction,  I find  I want  still  two  things  very  dear  to  me, — 
that  is,  you  and  my  health.  The  want  of  your  company  disturbs  me  con- 
stantly, my  cough  by  intervals ; and  between  them  both  I am  constantly 
admonished  that,  whatsoever  we  may  fancy  of  perfect  happiness,  we  shall 
never  attain  it  in  this  world. 

“I  was  informed  of  your  health  with  satisfaction  from  my  lord  of  Ely, 
who,  by  the  kindness  he  expressed  to  you,  increased  my  esteem  of  him.  I 
am  glad  to  hear  you  are  well  and  at  ease,  but  should  be  better  pleased  to 
hear  it  from  yourself,  and  to  have  the  opportunity  to  talk  some  old  and  new 
stories,  with  you  ; for  I fancy  we  have  a great  deal  to  say  to  one  another, 
and  I hope  it  will  not  be  long,  now  the  great  ditch  is  no  longer  between  us, 
before  we  shall  meet.  Wherever  you  are,  I,  with  my  old  concern  and 
friendship,  wish  your  happiness,  and  shall  be  glad  to  receive  the  news  of  it 
from  your  own  hand  as  often  as  your  inclination  or  occasions  will  allow  it. 
You  must  not  forget  that  I am,  dear  sister,  your  most  affectionate  brother 
and  humble  servant,  “ J.  Locke. 


150  IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.  [Chap.  xr. 

“ I expect  to  hear  some  pleasing  news  of  your  son  to  lodge  at  Dr. 
Goodall’s  at  the  college  of  physicians  in  Warwick  Lane.”1 

Four  clays  before  the  date  of  that  letter  Locke  sent  to 
his  friend  Limborcli  a longer  one,  which  throws  more  light 
on  his  position  and  occupations  at  this  time.  “ I fear,”  he 
wrote,  “ that  you  will  suspect  me  of  neglecting  you 
because  I have  so  long  continued  a silence  unsuitable  to 
your  deserts,  to  my  own  inclinations,  and  to  our  mutual 
affection.  You  will  surely  understand  that  my  feelings 
towards  you  cannot  be  changed  by  a change  of  country, 
and  that  I shall  always  regard  you  with  the  same  friend- 
ship and  reverence  ; and  I know  you  will  find  excuse  for 
me  in  the  time  I have  had  to  devote  to  friends  from  whom 
I have  so  long  been  parted,  in  the  worry  I have  had  in 
hunting  up  and  collecting  my  scattered  goods  and  chattels 
for  my  immediate  use,  and,  I must  add,  in  the  many 
claims  that  have  been  made  upon  me  by  the  urgent 
pressure  of  public  business  ; besides  all  which,  and  worst 
of  all,  my  health  has  suffered  considerably  from  the 
abominable  smoke  of  this  city.  Eeally,  I have  hardly  had 
a moment  of  leisure  since  I arrived.” 

He  then  proceeded  to  report  the  news  most  interesting 
to  his  friend,  as  well  as  to  himself.  “ Burnet  has  been 
nominated  to  the  bishopric  of  Salisbury.  In  parliament 
the  question  of  toleration  has  begun  to  be  discussed  under 
two  designations,  comprehension  and  indulgence.  By 
the  first  is  meant  a wide  expansion  of  the  church,  so 
as,  by  abolishing  a number  of  obnoxious  ceremonies,  to 
induce  a great  many  dissenters  to  conform.  By  the  other 
is  meant  the  allowance  of  civil  rights  to  all  who,  in  spite 


1 Longleat  MSS.  (the  Marquis  of  Bath’s) ; Locke  to  , 16  March, 

1688-9.  I am  indebted  to  Canon  Jackson  for  a transcript  of  this  letter. 


1669.  “I 
Ait.  56. J 


ILL-HEALTH  AND  HARD  WORK. 


151 


of  the  broadening  of  the  national  church,  are  still  un- 
willing or  unable  to  become  members  of  it.  How  lax  or 
strict  the  new  arrangements  will  he,  I cannot  tell  as  yet  ; 
but  this  at  all  events  is  certain,  that  the  episcopal  clmgy 
are  not  at  all  friendly  to  any  of  the  proposed  reforms, 
whether  to  their  own  or  to  the  nation’s  advantage  it  is  for 
them  to  consider.  For  my  own  part,  I hope  soon  to  get 
hack  to  hooks  and  letters  ; at  present  I am  too  busy  with 
other  matters.”  1 

Among  the  matters  with  which  Locke  was  so  busy  at 
this  time,  the  chief  was  evidently  that  movement  in 
favour  of  religious  liberty  to  which  he  briefly  referred  in 
his  letter  to  Limborch,  but  all  his  efforts  failed  to  bring 
about  anything  like  so  much  reform  as  he  desired. 

It  will  he  remembered  that  in  the  autumn  of  1685  he 
had  written  his  since  famous  ‘Epistola  de  Tolerantia.’  This 
tract  was  printed  at  Gouda  in  the  spring  of  1689,  soon 
after  Locke  left  Holland.  It  was  published  anonymously 
and  probably  without  Locke’s  knowledge,  the  responsi- 
bility of  giving  it  to  the  world  being,  it  would  seem, 
altogether  Limborch’ s, 2 and  it  is  clear  there  was  no 
design,  in  its  publication  just  then,  of  influencing  the 
policy  of  William  and  the  English  legislators.  If  it  did 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  (part  in  ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  828); 
Locke  to  Limborch,  12  March,  1688-9. 

2 Limborch,  or  some  other  person  than  Locke,  was  probably  the  com- 
piler of  the  ingenious  and  eccentric  wording,  or  rather  initialing,  of  the 
title-page  : “ Epistola  de  Tolerantia  ad  Clarissimum  Virum  TARPTOLA, 
Scripta  a PAPOILA.”  The  initials  stood  for  these  words,  “ Theologiae 
Apud  Remonstrantes  Professorem,  Tyrannidis  Osorem,  Limborchium, 
Amstelodamensem  (Professor  of  Theology  among  the  Remonstrants,  Hater 
of  Tyranny,  Limborch,  of  Amsterdam),”  and  “Pacis  Amico,  Persecutionis 
Osore,  Johanne  Lockio,  Anglo  (a  Friend  of  Peace,  Hater  of  Persecution, 
John  Locke,  Englishman).” 


152 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI 


that  at  all,  it  can  only  have  been  to  a very  small  extent. 
Translations  of  it  in  Dutch  and  French  were  almost  im- 
mediately issued,  and  it  created  a good  deal  of  discussion 
among  liberal  and  illiberal  theologians  as  well  as  politi- 
cians on  the  continent  during  the  early  months  of  1689 ; 
but,  though  men  like  William  the  Third  and  Bishop  Burnet 
may  have  read  it,  it  was  at  this  time  almost  unknown  in 
England.  If  Locke  had  any  direct  or  indirect  share  in  the 
comprehension  and  toleration  bills  that  were  submitted 
to  the  convention  parliament  in  March,  his  contribution 
to  the  scheme  of  reform  had  been  made  long  before. 

The  hills,  now  introduced  by  the  Earl  of  Nottingham, 
were  almost  identical  with  measures  that  had  been 
brought  forward  nearly  ten  years  earlier,  and  that  had 
indeed  been  originated  more  than  twenty  years  earlier, 
when  Locke  was  the  modest  coadjutor  of  the  first  Lord 
Shaftesbury.  The  comprehension  bill  proposed  to  relieve 
all  ministers  of  the  church  of  England,  and  all  members 
of  the  universities,  from  the  necessity  of  subscribing  to  the 
thirty-nine  articles,  substituting  for  them  this  declaration, 
“ I do  approve  of  the  doctrine  and  worship  and  govern- 
ment of  the  church  of  England  by  law  established, 
as  containing  all  things  necessary  to  salvation,  and 
I promise,  in  the  exercise  of  my  ministry,  to  preach 
and  practise  according  thereto  ; ” it  also  gave  consider- 
able liberty  as  to  the  wearing  of  vestments,  the  mode 
of  baptism,  and  other  ceremonies ; and  it  suggested 
the  appointment  of  a commission  for  simplifying  the 
ritual  and  rubric  of  the  church.  The  toleration  bill, 
without  abrogating  the  five  mile  act,  the  conventicle  act 
and  the  other  monstrous  laws  in  the  same  category,  pro- 
posed to  nullify  their  worst  provisions  in  the  case  of 
dissenters  willing  to  take  the  oaths  of  allegiance  and 


153 


Jt6856.]  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY. 

supremacy  and  to  subscribe  to  tbe  declaration  against 
transubstantiation  and  to  thirty-four  of  the  thirty-nine 
articles,  along  with  portions  of  two  others. 

Neither  measure  at  all  recognised  the  rule  which  Locke 
had  laid  down  in  terms  that  could  not  be  controverted, 
though  they  might  of  course  be  contradicted,  that  the 
civil  power  has  no  right  to  interfere  with  any  one’s  reli- 
gious opinions  or  worship,  or  in  any  way  to  make  those 
opinions  or  worship  an  obstacle  to  the  full  rights  of 
citizenship,  provided  only  that  they  are  not  clearly  at 
variance  with  the  civil  interests  of  the  community.  We 
can  easily  understand  that,  they  being  better  than  nothing, 
Locke  did  all  he  could  to  secure  their  adoption,  and  that 
he  was  yet  more  zealous  in  urging,  through  Monmouth 
and  others,  that  their  clauses  should  be  so  modified  as  to 
make  them  really  liberal  measures ; but,  wdien  he  saw7 
that  they  were  narrowed  instead  of  broadened  by  parlia- 
ment, and  when  finally,  though  the  toleration  bill  was 
passed,  the  more  useful  comprehension  bill  was  allowed  to 
drop  through,  he  certainly  had  good  reason  for  being  dis- 
appointed. When  his  ‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia  ’ was  issued 
in  an  English  translation,  it  appeared  only  as  an  eloquent 
argument  in  favour  of  reforms  yet  to  be  effected,  and, 
by  implication,  as  an  indignant  remonstrance  against  the 
very  lame  and  insufficient  efforts  at  reformation  which 
were  all  that  King  William,  himself  an  honest  friend  to 
religious  liberty,  and  the  few  men  like  Lords  Monmouth 
and  Pembroke,  who  shared  his  views,  could  persuade  the 
still  priest-ridden  country,  and  the  priests  who  tyrannised 
over  it,  to  consent  to. 

In  that  translation  Locke  himself  had  no  part.  “ I 
understand  that  a countryman  of  mine  is  now  engaged 
in  rendering  my  little  book  about  toleration  into  English,” 


154 


IN  AID  OF  THE  EE  VOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


lie  wrote  to  Limborch  in  June.  “ I hope  its  plea  in 
favour  of  peace  and  justice  may  obtain  a bearing.”1  The 
translator,  whom  Locke  afterwards  sought  out  and  made 
a friend  of,  was  William  Popple,  an  Unitarian  merchant  in 
London  ; and  he  expressed  Locke’s  thoughts  very  skilfully, 
not  only  in  the  version  itself,  but  also  in  the  short  preface 
with  which  he  furnished  it.  “ I think  there  is  no  nation 
under  heaven,”  he  there  wrote,  “in  which  so  much  has 
already  been  said  upon  toleration  as  ours ; but  yet  cer- 
tainly there  is  no  people  that  stand  in  more  need  of  having 
something  farther  both  said  and  done  amongst  them,  in 
this  point,  than  we  do.  Our  government  has  not  only 
been  partial  in  matters  of  religion,  but  those  also  who 
have  suffered  under  that  partiality,  and  have  therefore 
endeavoured  by  their  writings  to  vindicate  their  own 
rights  and  liberties,  have  for  the  most  part  done  it  upon 
narrow  principles  suited  only  to  the  interests  of  their  own 
sects.  This  narrowness  of  spirit  on  all  sides  has  un- 
doubtedly been  the  principal  occasion  of  our  miseries  and 
confusions.  But,  whatever  hath  been  the  occasion,  it  is 
now  high  time  to  seek  for  a thorough  cure.  We  have 
need  of  more  generous  remedies  than  what  have  yet  been 
made  use  of  in  our  distemper.  It  is  neither  declarations 
of  indulgence  nor  acts  of  comprehension,  such  as  have  as 
yet  been  practised  or  projected  amongst  us,  that  can  do 
the  work.  The  first  will  but  palliate,  the  second  increase 
our  evil.  Absolute  liberty,  just  and  true  liberty,  equal 
and  impartial  liberty,  is  the  thing  that  we  stand  in  need 
of.  Now,  though  this  has  been  much  talked  of,  I doubt 
it  has  not  been  much  understood — I am  sure  not  at  all 
practised — either  by  our  governors  towards  the  people  in 


1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  331 ; Locke  to  Limborch,  6 June,  1689. 


iEtf 5*6.]  THE  steuggle  for  religious  liberty.  155 

general,  or  by  any  dissenting  parties  of  the  people  towards 
one  another.”1 

“ I doubt  not  you  have  heard  before  this,”  Locke  wrote 
to  Limborch,  “that  toleration  is  now  established  among 
us  by  law ; not  with  such  breadth  as  you  and  true  men 
like  you,  free  from  Christian  arrogance  and  hatred,  would 
desire  ; but  ’tis  something  to  get  anything.  With  these 
small  beginnings  I hope  the  foundations  will  be  laid  on 
which  the  church  of  Christ  can  be  built  up.  None  are  to 
be  punished  for  their  religious  opinions,  unless  they  are 
catholics,  if  they  will  only  consent  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  and  to  repudiate  the  doctrine  of  transubstantia- 
tion  and  certain  other  dogmas  of  the  church  of  Borne. ” 2 

An  earlier  letter  to  Limborch  shows  us  with  what  tem- 
perate approval  Locke  watched  the  general  progress  of 
affairs  during  the  first  few  months  of  William’s  reign,  and 
with  what  honest  independence  of  spirit  he  took  part  in 
them  as  far  as  he  was  able. 

“ Yesterday,”  he  wrote  on  the  12th  of  April,  “ the  inau- 
guration or,  as  they  call  it,  the  coronation  of  the  king 
and  queen  was  celebrated  with  great  pomp  and  amid  the 
acclamations  of  a mighty  concourse  of  people;  and  at 
the  same  time,  I suppose,  they  were  in  Scotland  pro- 
claimed king  and  queen  of  that  country,  as  some  days 
ago  the  Scottish  throne,  according  to  the  institutions  of 
the  northern  kingdom,  had  been  decreed  to  William  and 
Mary.  Burnet,  now  bishop  of  Salisbury,  took  part  in 
yesterday’s  solemnity.  He  preached  before  the  king  and 
queen,  and  everybody  was  delighted  with  his  sermon.  I 
have  no  doubt  it  will  be  printed,  and  if  so,  I shall  take 
care  to  send  you  a copy.  I saw  him  this  morning,  and 

1 * A Letter  concerning  Toleration  ’ (1689),  To  the  Reader. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  330  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  6 June,  1689. 


156 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chaf.  XL 


told  him  yon  intended  to  send  him  a letter  of  congratula- 
tion as  soon  as  you  knew  that  he  was  actually  a bishop. 
Whether,  as  you  persuade  yourself,  he  will  show  the  same 
spirit  at  Salisbury  as  he  did  at  Amsterdam,  some  people 
begin  to  doubt.  I must  tell  you  a hit  of  gossip  about  him. 
When  he  paid  his  first  visit  to  the  king  after  his  consecra- 
tion, his  majesty  observed  that  his  hat  was  a good  deal 
larger  than  usual,  and  asked  him  what  was  the  object  of 
so  very  much  brim.  The  bishop  replied  that  this  was  the 
shape  suitable  to  his  dignity.  ‘ I hope,’  answered  the 
king,  ‘ that  the  hat  won’t  turn  your  head.’  ”1  Locke  may 
surely  be  excused  for  rather  spitefully  repeating  this  story 
about  the  clever  and  conceited,  though  on  the  whole  well- 
meaning,  busybody  who  was  so  fond  of  saying  spiteful 
things  about  everybody  else. 

After  referring  to  letters  that  he  had  received  from  his 
Mends  Yeen  and  Guenellon,  who,  as  well  as  Limborch, 
appear  to  have  been  surprised  that  they  had  as  yet  heard 
nothing  of  any  favours  shown  to  him,  while  Burnet  had 
so  soon  forced  himself  into  a bishopric,  Locke  went 
on  to  say,  “ I find  you  are  all  anxious  to  know  what 
public  office  I mean  to  ask  for.  I can  tell  you  in  a word 
— none.  On  the  score  of  my  health  I have  declined  an 
appointment  which  I should  certainly  have  been  glad 
enough  to  accept  had  I been  younger  and  stronger  than  I 
am.  I want  nothing  now  but  to  have  some  rest.  It 
would  never  do  for  a man  who  is  tumbling  to  pieces,  and 
fit  only  to  close  his  account  with  life,  to  rush  into  any 
new  and  great  undertaking.  I want  nothing,  I assure 
you,  but  a little  better  health  than  I have  had  since  my 
return,  to  be  able  to  breathe  more  easily,  and  to  be  less 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  12  April, 
1G89. 


CONNECTION  WITH  PUBLIC  AFFAIRS.  157 

troubled  by  my  cough.  Whether  I shall  get  any  good 
from  the  warmer  air  of  spring  time,  or  from  becoming 
accustomed  to  this  present  temperature,  I do  not  know, 
but  I do  know  that  it  would  be  very  foolish  of  me  to  take 
any  sort  of  public  burthen  on  my  shoulders.  What  would 
please  me  far  better  than  the  highest  honour  that  could 
be  offered  to  me,  would  be  now  and  then,  if  only  in  pass- 
ing, to  have  an  opportunity  of  meeting  you  again.  And 
yet,  I do  not  know  how  it  is,  though  I decline  to  take 
any  public  work,  I find  myself  so  occupied  with  public 
affairs  and  the  concerns  of  my  friends,  that  I am  hardly 
able  to  touch  a book  now.  I hope  I shall  soon  be  able  to 
get  back  to  my  former  and  much-wished-for  ease  in  the 
world  of  letters.”  1 

Locke  was  anxious  to  publish  the  ‘ Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding’  which  he  had  brought  home  with 
him,  and  therefore  probably  somewhat  exaggerated  the 
difficulties  thrown  in  his  way.  It  is  evident  that,  besides 
the  rather  heavy  task  of  correcting  the  proof-sheets  of 
the  essay,  which  was  now  being  printed,  he  found  op- 
portunity for  doing  a good  deal  of  other  literary  work 
during  the  two  years  following  his  return  to  England  ; 
but  it  is  also  evident  that  he  was  much  occupied  with 
public  affairs,  and  that,  if  his  duties  as  commissioner 
of  appeals  were  not  very  burthensome,  he  did  plenty  in 
other  ways  to  earn  the  modest  salary  attached  to  the 
office.  As  to  the  details  of  most  of  these  occupations, 
however,  only  very  scanty  information  has  come  down 
to  us. 

The  chief  business  of  the  convention  parliament,  after 
the  arrangements  for  assigning  the  crown  to  William  and 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Liinborck,  12  April, 
1689. 


158 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chaf.  XT. 


Mary  had  been  completed,  was  the  passing  of  the  toleration 
bill.  The  chief  business  between  its  re-assembling  in 
August  and  its  prorogation  in  the  following  January  was 
the  passing  of  the  hill  of  rights.  Most  of  its  time  was 
spent  in  squabbling ; the  assembly,  though  useful  enough 
in  settling  the  one  great  question  for  which  it  had  been 
specially  summoned,  proving  itself  not  very  competent  to 
deal  with  the  other  questions  that  came  before  it.  Locke 
watched  its  proceedings  very  closely,  and  took  an  im- 
portant though  indirect  share  in  them ; hut  the  only 
subject  with  which  we  know  that  he  intimately  concerned 
himself  was  religious  liberty,  and  in  following  this  his 
attention  had  to  he  turned  rather  to  convocation  than 
to  parliament.  In  its  first  session  parliament  had  shelved 
the  comprehension  hill  by  referring  it  to  convocation, 
and  in  order  to  help  that  body  in  coming  to  an  opinion  a 
royal  commission  was  appointed  in  September  “ to  prepare 
such  alterations  in  the  liturgy  and  canons,  and  such  pro- 
posals for  the  reformation  of  ecclesiastical  courts,  and  to 
consider  such  other  matters,  as  may  most  conduce  to  the 
good  order  and  edification  and  union  of  the  church  of 
England.”  Nothing  hut  increase  of  ill-will  between  the 
various  factions  in  and  out  of  the  church  came  of  all  this, 
hut  it  helped  to  occupy  people’s  thoughts  during  a few 
months. 

“ A certain  measure  of  indulgence  has  been  agreed 
upon,”  he  wrote  to  Limborch,  “ but  the  strife  of  opinions 
and  parties  is  by  no  means  ended,  although  the  dissenters 
use  the  liberty  that  has  been  granted  to  them  much  more 
peaceably  and  modestly  than  I should  have  expected. 
The  question  of  comprehension  is  again  under  discussion. 
What  good  will  come  of  it  I do  not  at  present  see,  hut  I 
do  not  think  they  are  in  the  way  of  securing  lasting  peace 


1689.  "I 
Mt.  57.J 


CONNECTION  WITH  PUBLIC  AEFAIKS. 


159 


to.  the  church.  People  will  always  differ  from  one  another 
about  religion  and  carry  on  constant  strife  and  wrar  until 
the  right  of  every  one  to  perfect  liberty  in  these  matters 
is  ccnceded  and  they  can  be  united  in  one  body  by  a 
bond  of  mutual  charity.”  “ The  English  translation  of 
the  ‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia  ’ has  just  appeared,”  he 
added  in  a postscript.1  But  the  way  in  which  that  tract 
was  received  by  the  English  public,  and  the  result  of  the 
discussions  of  the  royal  commissioners  and  of  convocation, 
only  forced  upon  him  the  conviction  that  the  millennium 
of  religious  peace  and  charity  was  yet  a very  long  way  off. 

He  had  soon  to  arrive  at  a like  conclusion  on  other 
matters.  But  he  did  all  he  could  towards  serving  his 
country  in  its  immediate  embarrassments,  and,  being 
himself  too  ill  to  do  as  much  active  work  as  he  desired, 
he  was  all  the  more  eager  in  encouraging  younger  and 
stronger  men  to  be  zealous  patriots.  Of  his  relations 
with  one  of  these  men  it  is  especially  interesting  to  take 
note. 

Before  going  to  Holland  he  had  made  the  acquaintance 
of  a clever  young  barrister,  John  Somers,  the  son  of  a 
Gloucestershire  attorney  and  born  in  1651,  who  was 
called  to  the  bar  in  1676,  and,  taking  a lively  interest  in 
politics  as  well  as  the  law,  soon  became  known  to  the 
Earl  of  Shaftesbury  and  the  other  leading  whigs.  In 
1680  he  wrote,  with  special  reference  to  Shaftesbury’s 
exclusion  bill,  a very  learned  and  effective  ‘ History  of 
the  Succession,  collected  out  of  the  Becords  and  the  most 
authentic  Historians,’  which  was  accepted  as  a conclusive 
authority  by  the  promoters  of  William  of  Orange’s  king- 
ship,  and  a year  after  he  published  a very  clever  but  more 
ephemeral  tract  in  defence  of  Shaftesbury  and  his  policv. 


1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborcb,  10  Sept.,  1689. 


1G0 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


He  continued  to  be  a bold  politician  as  well  as  a rising 
lawyer  during  the  reign  of  James  the  Second ; and 
Pollexfen,  who  was  senior  counsel  for  the  Seven  Bishops 
in  1688,  having  insisted  that  Somers  should  be  one  of  his 
juniors,  their  acquittal  was  mainly  attributed  to  the  skill 
and  eloquence  with  which  he  defended  them.  That 
success  made  him  a favourite  with  the  whigs.  He  was  a 
member  of  the  convention  parliament,  and  in  his  maiden 
speech  he  laid  down  the  principles  of  limited  monarchy  in 
terms  that  Locke  might  have  dictated.  He  drew  up  the 
report,  being  the  chief  member,  of  the  committee 
appointed  in  February  “ to  consider  the  redress  of 
grievances,”  out  of  which  grew  the  declaration  of  rights 
and  the  bill  of  rights.  Ably  supporting  those  measures, 
he  was  also  the  chief  advocate  of  the  comprehension  bill 
and  the  toleration  bill  in  the  house  of  commons.  On 
the  7th  of  May  he  was  appointed  solicitor-general,  and  in 
the  following  October  he  was  knighted. 

Some  insight  into  his  relations  with  Locke,  now  that 
their  intimacy  was  resumed  after  an  interval  of  six  or  seven 
years,  as  well  as  into  Locke’s  connection  with  political 
affairs,  may  be  gained  from  a letter  of  Somers’s  written 
from  Worcester,  which  he  represented  in  parliament,  in 
September.  “ 1 ought  to  be  out  of  countenance  for  being 
so  long  in  making  my  acknowledgment  for  your  two 
favours,  which  I really  value  so  much,”  he  here  said ; 
“ but,  as  I had  nothing  to  write  from  this  place  which 
was  fit  for  you  to  read,  so  I wanted  a proper  address  to 
you  till  I learnt  it  from  my  friend  Mr.  Freke,”  also  a 
friend  of  Locke’s,  with  whom  we  shall  meet  again.  “ The 
country,  generally  speaking,  is  extremely  well-disposed 
in  relation  to  the  government ; but  some  few  clergymen 
who  have  not  taken  the  oaths,  and  some  that  have,  and 


SIE  JOHN  SOMEES  AND  THE  WHIGS. 


161 


1689-90.1 

m.  57  J 


a very  little  party  of  such  as  pay  them  a blind  obedience, 
use  incredible  diligence,  by  misconstructions  of  every- 
thing, false  stories  and  spreading  of  libels,  to  infect  the 
people.  I wish  heartily  the  hi  ends  of  the  government 
were  encouraged  to  use  the  same  diligence  in  suppressing 
such  doings ; for,  though  they  behave  themselves  with 
much  malice,  yet  it  is  so  very  foolishly  that  they  lie  as 
open  as  one  could  wish.  I am  making  all  possible  haste 
to  town,  and  hope  to  learn  from  you  all  that  I want  from 
my  long  absence.  Your  former  favours  make  me  bold  to 
presume  upon  you,  and  your  judgment  is  such  that  I 
can  depend  upon  your  instructions  as  the  rules  for  my 
behaviour.”  1 A good  many  men  looked  to  Locke  for 
instructions,  and  prudently  allowed  themselves  to  be 
guided  by  his  judgment. 

In  the  absence  of  much  direct  information  on  the  sub- 
ject, there  can  be  no  stronger  proof  of  Locke’s  participa- 
tion in  the  troubled  course  of  domestic  politics  during  the 
first  year  or  so  of  William’s  reign  than  in  the  fact  that, 
notwithstanding  the  serious  damage  that  was  always 
done  to  his  health  by  residence  in  London  during  the 
foggy  and  frosty  months,  he  spent  there  the  whole  winter 
of  1689-90  and  most  of  the  following  one. 

That,  however,  was  an  especially  busy  time.  In  January, 
1689-90,  the  king  had  to  choose  between  dissolving  his 
unruly  and  ungrateful  house  of  commons  and  abdicating 
the  crown  that  he  had  worn  with  very  little  satisfaction 
to  himself,  and  with  even  less  satisfaction  to  the  noisiest 
and  most  influential  of  his  subjects,  during  less  than  a 
year.  He  fortunately  adopted  the  former  alternative. 
Parliament  was  dismissed  on  the  6th  of  February,  and 


1 Lord  King,  p.  235 ; Somers  to  Locke,  25  September,  1689. 
is  wrongly  given  by  Lord  King  as  1698. 


The  date 


Yol.  II.— 11 


1 


162 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


iChap.  XI. 


another  one  summoned  for  the  20th  of  March.  Many 
of  LocWs  friends  were  candidates  for  seats  in  the  new 
house  of  commons  which  was  to  decide  the  fate  of 
England,  and  several  were  elected.  One  of  them,  now 
making  his  entrance  into  political  life  as  representative 
of  Taunton,  was  Edward  Clarke,  of  Chipley,  of  whom 
we  shall  see  much  hereafter.  Another  was  Sir  Walter 
Yonge,  chosen  for  Honiton.  Another  was  Locke’s  former 
pupil,  Lord  Ashley,  the  first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury’s  grand- 
son, who  now,  in  his  twentieth  year,  represented  Poole. 
Another,  about  whose  intimacy  with  Locke  we  know 
little,  though  there  certainly  was  such  an  intimacy,  was 
the  Earl  of  Bellamont,  an  Irish  peer,  whom,  in  1695, 
William  the  Third  appointed  governor  of  New  York  and 
Massachusetts,  where  freebooting  was  terribly  rife.  “I 
send  you,  my  lord,”  said  the  king,  “ because  an  honest 
and  intrepid  man  is  wanted  to  put  these  abuses  down, 
and  because  I believe  you  to  be  such  a man.”  Another 
was  Sir  John  Somers,  the  solicitor- general. 

“ Since  you  have  wished  so  kindly  to  my  election,” 
Somers  wrote  to  Locke  from  Oxford,  on  the  5th  of 
March,  “I  cannot  hut  think  it  my  duty  to  give  you  an 
account  that  yesterday  morning  my  old  partner,  Mr. 
Bromley,  and  myself  were  chosen  at  Worcester  without 
any  opposition.  I was  very  willing  to  get  out  of  the 
town  as  soon  as  my  election  was  over,  and  so  got  into 
the  circuit  at  this  place,  from  whence  I shall  go  back  to 
Worcester,  where  I hope  you  will  make  me  so  happy  as 
to  let  me  receive  another  letter  from  you,  in  which  I will 
beg  your  advice  (for  by  this  time  you  have  an  account  of 
the  bulk  of  the  elections),  whether  you  think  I may  go 
on  in  the  circuit  or  not : what  you  write  shall  be  my  rule 
in  this  point.  If  I could  hope  to  be  useful,  I would  not 


KING  WILLIAM’S  SECOND  PARLIAMENT.  163 

fail  to  be  at  the  opening  of  the  session ; but  if  there  be 
no  hopes  of  it,  and  that  the  Gazette  inclines  me  to  believe, 
I would  take  the  advantage  of  the  whole  circuit,  since 
I am  now  engaged  in  it.  This  letter  I beg  from  you  by 
Saturday’s  post ; and,  when  I have  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  you,  I will  beg  your  pardon  for  this  freedom, 
which  nothing  but  your  kindness  to  me  upon  all  occa- 
sions, as  well  as  my  dependence  upon  your  judgment, 
could  have  drawn  me  to.  I am  earnest  in  expectation 
of  your  thoughts  in  this  and  greater  matters.”  1 

It  is  certainly  curious  to  find  a solicitor-general  asking 
any  one’s  advice  as  to  whether,  in  the  midst  of  such 
political  excitement  as  now  prevailed,  he  should  devote 
himself  to  his  private  interests  or  attend  to  his  official 
duties  ; and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Locke  strongly 
urged  his  friend  to  neglect  the  Oxford  circuit  and  take 
his  place  in  parliament  on  the  opening  day.  Every 
honest  man  who  had  a seat  in  that  assembly  was  wanted 
there.  Perhaps  it  was  not  altogether  matter  for  regret 
that  a far  greater  number  of  tories  were  elected  for  this 
than  for  the  previous  house  of  commons,  as  the  whigs 
had  not,  after  offering  the  crown  to  William  and  Mary, 
shown  themselves  very  wise  or  very  patriotic  ; but  it  was 
a very  serious  matter  indeed  that  the  king,  during  the 
interval,  had  taken  for  his  chief  adviser,  instead  of  the 
old  Marquis  of  Halifax,  the  worst  of  all  the  vicious 
politicians  who  had  been  in  the  service  of  Charles  the 
Second.  This  adviser  was  the  Earl  of  Danby,  now  styled 
the  Marquis  of  Carmarthen,  and  before  long  to  be  made 
Duke  of  Leeds,  but  the  same  treacherous  schemer  and 
master  of  the  art  of  bribery  under  all  his  titles.  This 
and  other  changes  indicated  that,  if  the  house  of  com- 
1 Lord  King,  p.  234 ; Somers  to  Locke,  5 March,  1689-90. 


164 


IN  AID  OF  THE  DEVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


mons  was  to  be  made  loyal  to  the  king  and  the  govern- 
ment, the  loyalty  was  not  to  be  quite  disinterested. 

No  sooner  was  this  apparent  than  Locke  began  to 
trouble  himself  less  about  parliamentary  affairs.  He  was 
very  anxious  that  as  many  of  his  friends  and  other  honest 
men  as  possible  should  be  elected  to  the  new  house  of 
commons,  and  that  their  full  strength  should  be  shown 
in  the  opening  proceedings ; but  when  that  strength 
proved  unavailing,  when  on  the  first  day  of  the  session 
Sir  John  Trevor,  Carmarthen’s  tool,  was  chosen  speaker 
of  the  house,  he  seems  to  have  felt  that  there  was  little 
to  be  hoped  for.  We  have  hardly  any  trace,  at  any  rate, 
of  his  connection  with  parliamentary  movements  during 
the  next  four  years,  and  therefore  we  need  not  here 
attempt  to  follow  those  movements. 

He  sought  to  help  forward  the  work  of  the  revolution, 
as  he  understood  it,  in  other  ways ; and  we  must  now 
follow  him  into  one  of  those  literary  undertakings  for 
which  he  complained  that  he  had,  in  the  first  year  after 
his  return  from  Holland,  so  little  leisure.  This  was, 
however,  an  undertaking  by  which  he  rendered  to  the 
cause  of  which  William  the  Third  was  champion  a ser- 
vice of  certainly  not  less  immediate  importance,  and  as 
certainly  of  much  more  permanent  value  to  the  world, 
than  anything  he  can  have  been  able  to  do  in  giving 
advice  concerning  the  current  business  of  parliament  or 
the  best  means  of  maintaining  something  like  good  govern- 
ment amid  the  embarrassments  caused  by  selfish  courtiers 
and  greedy  place-hunters,  disloyal  whigs  and  more  dis- 
loyal tories,  by  Jacobite  plotters  in  England,  by  disaffected 
Scotsmen  and  by  Irish  rebels. 


1869.  1 

JSt.  56. J 


* TWO  TREATISES  OF  GOVERNMENT.’ 


165 


Early  in  1690  appeared  ‘Two  Treatises  of  Government,’ 
with  this  announcement  on  the  title-page:  “In  the  former 
the  false  principles  and  foundation  of  Sir  Robert  Filmer  and 
his  followers  are  detected  and  overthrown  : the  latter  is  an 
Essay  concerning  the  true  Original,  Extent  and  End  of 
Civil  Government.”-  This  work,  afterwards  acknowledged 
as  his  by  Locke,  was  licensed  for  printing  on  the  23rd  of 
August,  1689,  and  must  accordingly  have  been  written 
before  that  date.  “Thou  hast  here,”  Locke  said  in  his 
prefatory  address  to  the  reader,  “the  beginning  and  end 
of  a discourse  concerning  government.  What  fate  has 
otherwise  disposed  of  the  papers  that  should  have  filled 
up  the  middle  and  were  more  than  all  the  rest,  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  tell  thee.  These,  which  remain,  I hope 
are  sufficient  to  establish  the  throne  of  our  great  restorer, 
our  present  King  William,  to  make  good  his  title  in  the 
consent  of  the  people,  which,  being  the  only  one  of  all 
lawful  governments,  he  has  more  fully  and  clearly  than 
any  prince  in  Christendom,  and  to  justify  to  the  world 
the  people  of  England,  whose  love  of  their  natural  rights, 
with  their  resolution  to  preserve  them,  saved  the  nation 
when  it  was  on  the  very  brink  of  slavery  and  ruin.  If 
these  papers  have  that  evidence  I flatter  myself  is  found 
in  them,  there  will  be  no  great  miss  of  those  which  are 
lost,  and  my  readers  may  be  satisfied  without  them ; for 
I imagine  I shall  have  neither  the  time  nor  inclination 
to  repeat  my  pains  and  fill  up  the  wanting  part  of  my 
answer  by  tracing  Sir  Robert  again  through  all  the  wind- 
ings and  obscurities  which  are  to  be  met  with  in  the 
several  branches  of  his  wonderful  system.” 

Locke  was  so  busily  employed  in  other  ways  during  the 
six  months  that  elapsed  between  his  return  to  England 
and  the  licensing  of  this  book,  comprising  less  than  hah 


166 


IN  AID  OF  THE  KEVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


of  the  whole  work  written  by  him,  that  it  is  very  unlikely 
that  he  had  opportunity,  within  those  six  months,  for 
writing  any  large  part  of  it,  least  of  all  its  elaborate 
review  of  Sir  Robert  Filmer’ s “windings  and  obscurities.” 
It  is  yet  more  unlikely  that  its  middle  portion,  “more 
than  all  the  rest,”  should  have  been  lost  so  immediately 
after  it  was  written,  and,  though  what  is  now  the  second 
essay  may  possibly  have  been  prepared  in  England  in 
1689,  its  tone  and  method  seem  to  suggest  that  it  was 
composed  before,  instead  of  after,  William  the  Third’s 
accession.  On  these  grounds,  supported  by  some  minor 
considerations  which  hardly  need  be  here  set  forth,  it 
may  fairly  be  assumed  that  the  whole  was  substantially 
completed  during  the  last  year  or  so  of  Locke’s  residence 
in  Holland,  and  that  probably  the  earlier  and  larger  por- 
tions, including  that  which  was  lost,  were  written  before 
Locke  went  thither.  Its  place  in  the  history  of  political 
and  philosophical  history,  however,  must  be  assigned  to 
the  first  year  after  his  return  to  England.  It  was  evi- 
dently begun  as  a mere  rejoinder  to  the  £ Patriarcha  ’ in 
which  Sir  Robert  Filmer,  a devoted  subject  of  Charles 
the  First,  had  boldly  set  himself  to  support  his  master’s 
cause  by  claiming  for  kings  more  absolute  dominion  over 
their  subjects  than  any  but  the  maddest  kings  in  their 
maddest  moments  ever  ventured  to  claim  for  themselves. 
Besides  this  work,  which  was  written  about  the  year 
1642,  and  thus  was  nearly  contemporary  with  Hobbes’s 
treatise  £ De  Cive,’  Filmer  published  £ The  Anarchy  of  a 
Limited  and  Mixed  Monarchy’  in  1646, £ The  Freeholder’s 
Grand  Inquest’  and  £ The  Power  of  Kings  ’ in  1648,  and 
‘Observations  upon  Mr.  Hobbes’s  “Leviathan,”  Mr. 
Milton  against  Salmasius,  and  Grotius  “De  Jure  Belli 
et  Pacis,”  concerning  the  Original  of  Government  ’ in 


AN  ANSWER  TO  FILMER’S  ‘ PATRIARCHA.’  167 

1652.  The  ‘Patriarcha’  was  not  published  till  1680,  when, 
Filmer  being  apparently  dead,  it  was  issued  by  his  son 
and  welcomed  by  all  the  champions  of  divine  right  who 
were  then  rallying  round  Charles  the  Second.  Locke’s 
friend,  James  Tyrrell,  answered  it  in  1681,  in  an  essay 
styled,  4 Patriarcha  non  Monarcha  ; ’ 1 and  a new  edition 
was  published  in  1685,  with  a preface  “in  which  this 
piece  is  vindicated  from  the  cavils  and  misconstructions 
of  the  author  of  ‘ Patriarcha  non  Monarcha.’  ” 

The  first  of  Locke’s  ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Govern- 
ment ’ was  probably  written  at  some  time  between  the 
appearance  of  Filmer’s  first  and  second  editions.2  “ I 
should  not  speak  so  plainly  of  a gentleman  long  since 
past  answering,”  he  said,  “had  not  the  pulpit  of  late 
years  publicly  owned  his  doctrine  and  made  it  the  current 
divinity  of  the  times.  I should  not  have  taken  the  pains 
to  show  his  mistakes,  inconsistencies  and  want  of  what 
he  so  much  boasts  of  and  pretends  wholly  to  rely  on — 
Scripture  proofs — were  there  not  men  amongst  us  who, 
by  crying  up  his  books  and  espousing  his  doctrine,  save  me 
from  the  reproach  of  writing  against  a dead  adversary.”  3 
It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  Locke  should  have 
thought  those  pains  worth  taking.  “ Slavery  is  so  vile 
and  miserable  an  estate  of  man,  and  so  directly  opposite 
to  the  generous  temper  and  courage  of  our  nation,”  he 
said,  “that  it  is  hardly  to  be  conceived  that  an  English- 
man, much  less  a gentleman,  should  plead  for  it.  And 
truly  I should  have  taken  Sir  Bobert  Filmer’s  ‘Patriarcha’ 
as  any  other  treatise  which  would  persuade  all  men  that 
they  are  slaves  and  ought  to  be  so  for  another  exercise  of 

1 I have  not  been  able  to  meet  with  a copy  of  Tyrrell’s  work, 

2 All  his  references  are  to  the  first  edition. 

8 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ (1690),  Preface. 


168 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


wit,  as  was  his  who  writ  the  encomium  of  Nero,  rather 
than  for  a serious  discourse  meant  in  earnest,  had  not 
the  gravity  of  the  title  and  epistle,  the  picture  in  front  of 
the  book,  and  the  applause  that  followed  it,  required  me 
to  believe  that  the  author  and  publisher  were  both  in 
earnest.  I therefore  took  it  into  my  hands  with  all  the 
expectation,  and  read  it  through  with  all  the  attention,  due 
to  a treatise  that  made  such  a noise  at  its  coming  abroad, 
and  cannot  but  confess  myself  mightily  surprised  that  in  a 
book  which  was  to  provide  chains  for  all  mankind  I should 
find  nothing  but  a rope  of  sand,  useful,  perhaps,  to  such 
whose  skill  and  business  it  is  to  raise  a dust  and  blind  the 
people  the  better  to  mislead  them,  but  in  truth  not  of  any 
force  to  draw  those  into  bondage  who  have  their  eyes 
open,  and  so  much  sense  about  them  as  to  consider  that 
chains  are  but  an  ill  wearing,  how  much  care  soever  hath 
been  taken  to  file  and  polish  them.”  1 

Filmer  had  woven  into  his  “ rope  of  sand  ” a few  texts 
from  the  book  of  Genesis,  from  which  he  argued  that 
Adam  was  endowed  with  absolute  mastery  over  the  whole 
world,  and  also  that  “ the  succeeding  patriarchs  had, 
by  right  of  fatherhood,  royal  authority  over  their 
children.”  “ God  created  only  Adam,  and  of  a piece 
of  him  made  the  woman,  and  by  generation  from  them 
two,  as  parts  of  them,  all  mankind  was  propagated. 
God  gave  to  Adam  not  only  the  dominion  over  the 
woman  and  the  children  that  should  issue  from  them,  but 
also  over  all  the  earth  to  subdue  it,  and  over  all  the 
creatures  on  it ; so  that  as  long  as  Adam  lived  no  man  could 
claim  or  enjoy  anything  but  by  donation,  assignation,  or 
permission  from  him.”  “ It  was  God’s  ordinance  that  the 
supremacy  should  be  unlimited  in  Adam  and  as  large  as 
1 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ (1690),  b.  i.,  § 1. 


AN  ESSAY  ON  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT.  1G9 

all  the  acts  of  his  will ; and  as  in  him,  so  in  all  others 
that  have  supreme  power.”  Those  were  the  “false 
principles  ” that  Locke  set  himself  to  “ detect  and  over- 
throw.” We  need  not,  however,  follow  him  through  his 
refutation  of  tenets  now  so  entirely  out  of  date.  With 
great  fulness  he  examined  Filmer’s  assertions  as  to 
Adam’s  title  to  sovereignty  by  creation,  by  donation,  by 
the  subjection  of  Eve,  and  by  fatherhood,  and,  having 
exploded  these,  proceeded  “ to  consider  how  inheritance, 
grant,  usurpation  or  election  can  any  way  make  out ' 
government  in  the  world  upon  his  principles,  or  derive  to 
any  one  a right  of  empire  from  this  regal  authority  of 
Adam,  had  it  been  never  so  well  proved  that  he  had  been 
absolute  monarch  and  lord  of  the  whole  world.”1  But 
the  long  fragment  which  he  published  breaks  off  before 
the  arguments  respecting  inheritance  are  complete,  and 
perhaps  the  lost  sequel  can  be  better  spared  than  any- 
thing else  of  Locke’s  writing. 

The  second  essay  is  of  a very  different  sort.  “ He  that 
will  not  give  just  occasion  to  think  that  all  government 
in  the  world  is  the  product  only  of  force  and  violence, 
and  that  men  live  together  by  no  other  rule  but  that  of 
beasts,  where  the  strongest  carries  it,  and  so  lay  a founda- 
tion for  perpetual  disorder  and  mischief,  tumult,  sedition, 
and  rebellion  (things  that  the  followers  of  that  other 
hypothesis  so  loudly  cry  out  against),  must  of  necessity 
find  out  another  rise  of  government,  another  original  of 
political  power,  and  another  way  of  designing  and  knowing 
the  persons  that  have  it,  than  what  Sir  Bobert  Filmer 
hath  taught  us.”  2 That  Locke  now  undertook  to  do 

He  was  not  the  first  able  writer  on  “the  true  original, 

1 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ (1690),  b.  i.,  § 80. 

2 Ibid. , b.  ii.,  § 1. 


170 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XT. 


extent  and  end  of  civil  government.”  Old  theorists  like 
Languet  the  republican,  and  Buchanan  the  royalist,  had 
been  superseded  by  Bodin,  whose  ‘ Six  Livres  de  la 
Republique  ’ was  alike  remarkable  for  its  immense  learn- 
ing and  for  its  profound  thought  on  political  matters,  and 
was  none  the  less  admirable  as  a work  of  genius  because 
it  unfortunately  gave  all  or  nearly  all  the  weight  of  its 
authority  to  despotic  systems  of  government.  Hobbes 
and  Hooker,  Grotius  and  Puffendorf,  were  Locke’s  more 
immediate  teachers,  and  he  wisely  took  from  their 
writings  all  the  suggestions  that  seemed  to  him  suitable 
for  the  construction  of  a complete  scheme  of  the  functions 
and  duties  of  civil  government.  He  here,  however,  only 
greatly  expanded  the  ideas  to  which  nearly  thirty  years 
before  he  had  given  very  partial  expression  in  his 
‘ Reflections  upon  the  Roman  Commonwealth.’ 

“ To  understand  political  power  aright  and  derive  it  from  its  original,” 
he  said  at  starting,  “ we  must  consider  what  state  all  men  are  naturally  in ; 
and  that  is  a state  of  perfect  freedom  to  order  their  actions  and  dispose  of 
their  possessions  and  persons  as  they  think  fit,  within  the  bounds  of  the  law 
of  nature,  without  asking  leave  or  depending  upon  the  will  of  any  other  man, 
— a state  also  of  equality,  wherein  all  the  power  and  jurisdiction  is  recipro- 
cal, no  one  having  more  than  another ; there  being  nothing  more  evident 
than  that  creatures  of  the  same  species  and  rank,  promiscuously  born  to  all 
the  same  advantages  of  nature  and  the  use  of  the  same  faculties,  should  also 
be  equal  one  amongst  another,  without  subordination  or  subjection,  unless 
the  Lord  and  Master  of  them  all  should  by  any  manifest  declaration  of  his 
will  set  one  above  another  and  confer  on  him  by  an  evident  and  clear 
appointment  an  undoubted  right  to  dominion  and  sovereignty.”  A state  o 
liberty,  however,  is  not  a state  of  licence ; for  reason,  which  is  the  law  of 
nature,  clearly  shows  that  we  cannot  exceed  our  own  rights  without  assail- 
ing the  rights  of  others,  “ and,  being  furnished  with  like  faculties,  sharing 
all  in  one  community  of  nature,  there  cannot  be  supposed  any  such  subordi- 
nation among  us  that  may  authorise  us  to  destroy  one  another,  as  if  we 
were  made  for  one  another’s  uses,  as  the  inferior  ranks  of  creatures  are  for 
ours.”  “Every  one,”  moreover,  “ as  he  is  bound  to  preserve  himself,  so,  by 


1689.  1 
Alt.  56.  J 


171 


MAN  IN  “ THE  STATE  OF  NATUKE.” 

the  like  reason,  when  his  own  preservation  comes  not  in  competition,  ought, 
as  much  as  he  can,  to  preserve  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  may  not,  unless  it  he 
to  do  justice  on  an  offender,  take  away  or  impair  the  life,  or  what  tends  to 
the  preservation  of  the  life,  the  liberty,  health,  limb,  or  goods  of  another.”1 

Hence  it  is,  Locke  urged,  that  “ one  man  comes  by  power  over  another.” 
The  community  could  not  exist  if  transgressors  were  not  punished,  “ so 
much  as  may  serve  for  reparation  and  restraint ; ” and,  “ if  any  one  in  the 
state  of  nature  may  punish  another  for  any  evil  he  has  done,  every  one  may 
do  so.”  Every  wrong-doer  places  himself  in  “ a state  of  war,”  and  is  thus  at 
enmity  with  every  one  else  ; “ it  being  reasonable  and  just  I should  have  a 
right  to  destroy  that  which  threatens  me  with  destruction ; for,  by  the  fun- 
damental law  of  nature,  man  being  to  be  preserved  as  much  as  possible, 
when  all  cannot  be  preserved,  the  safety  of  the  innocent  is  to  be  pre- 
ferred.” 2 

“ Here  we  have  the  plain  difference  between  the  state  of  nature  and  the 
state  of  war,  which  some  men  have  confounded,”  said  Locke, 3 in  evident 
allusion  to  the  teaching  of  Hobbes  as  to  the  lawlessness  of  human  society  in 
its  original  condition.  The  difference,  however,  is  only  one  of  degree. 
Hobbes  did  not  believe  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  He  held  that  men  were 
at  first  utterly  savage  and  brutal,  and  that  only  by  slow  and  bitter  experi- 
ence did  they  learn  those  “ laws  ” of  liberty  and  equality,  self-preservation 
and  mutual  protection,  with  which  Locke  assumed  them  to  have  been 
endowed  by  their  Maker.  Hobbes’s  first  law  of  nature,  that  men  should  seek 
peace  by  joining  together  to  prevent  others  from  injuring  them,  was  also 
Locke’s  law. 

The  most  original  and  philosophical  portion  of  Locke’s  treatise  was  that 
in  which  he  treated  of  property.  “ The  earth  and  all  that  is  therein,”  he 
said,  “ is  given  to  men  for  the  support  and  comfort  of  their  being  ; and,  though 
all  the  fruits  it  naturally  produces  and  the  beasts  it  feeds  belong  to  mankind 
in  common,  as  they  are  produced  by  the  spontaneous  hand  of  nature,  and 
nobody  has  originally  a private  dominion,  exclusive  of  the  rest  of  mankind, 
in  any  of  them  as  they  are  thus  in  then;  natural  state,  yet  there  must  of 
necessity  be  a means  to  appropriate  them  some  way  or  other  before  they 
can  be  of  any  use  or  at  all  beneficial  to  any  particular  man.”  “ Though  the 
earth  and  all  inferior  creatures  be  common  to  ail  men,  yet  every  man  has  a 


1 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government’  (1690),  b.  ii.,  §§  4,  6. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  §§  8,  16. 

3 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  § 19. 


172 


IN  AID  OF  THE  DEVOLUTION. 


rfiTAP.  XT 


property  in  his  own  person  ; this  nobody  has  any  right  to  but  himself.  The 
labour  of  his  body  and  the  work  of  his  hands,  we  may  say,  are  properly  his. 
Whatsoever,  then,  he  removes  out  of  the  state  that  nature  hath  provided  and 
left  it  in,  he  hath  mixed  his  labour  with  and  joined  to  it  something  that  is  his 
own,  and  thereby  made  it  his  property.  It  being  by  him  removed  from  the 
common  state  nature  hath  placed  it  in,  it  hath  by  this  labour  something 
annexed  to  it  that  excludes  the  common  right  of  other  men  ; for,  this  labour 
being  the  unquestionable  property  of  the  labourer,  no  man  but  he  can  have 
a right  to  what  that  is  once  joined  to,  at  least  where  there  is  enough  and  as 
good  left  in  common  for  others.  He  that  is  nourished  by  the  acorns  he  picked 
up  under  an  oak,  or  the  apples  he  gathered  from  the  trees  in  the  wood,  has 
certainly  appropriated  them  to  himself.  Nobody  can  deny  but  the  nourish- 
ment is  his.  I ask,  then,  when  did  they  begin  to  be  his  ? when  he  digested  ? 
or  when  he  ate  ? or  when  he  boiled  ? or  when  he  brought  them  home  ? or 
when  he  picked  them  up  ? It  is  plain,  if  the  first  gathering  made  them  not  his, 
nothing  else  could.  That  labour  put  a distinction  between  them  and  common  ; 
that  added  something  to  them  more  than  nature  had  done  ; and  so  they 
became  his  private  right.  And  will  any  one  say  he  had  no  right  to  those 
acorns  or  apples  he  thus  appropriated  because  he  had  not  the  consent  of  all 
mankind  to  make  them  his  ? was  it  a robbery  thus  to  assume  to  himself 
what  belonged  to  all  in  common  ? If  such  a consent  as  that  was  necessary, 
man  had  starved,  notwithstanding  the  plenty  God  had  given  him.”  “And 
amongst  those  who  are  counted  the  civilised  part  of  mankind,  who  have  made 
and  multiplied  positive  laws  to  determine  property,  this  original  law  of 
nature  for  the  beginning  of  property  in  what  was  before  common  still  takes 
place  ; and  by  virtue  thereof,  what  fish  any  one  catches  in  the  ocean,  that 
great  and  still  remaining  common  of  mankind,  is,  by  the  labour  that  removes 
it  out  of  that  common  state  nature  left  it  in,  made  his  property  who  takes 
that  pains  about  it.”  1 

/ That  might  gives  right  was  the  old  maxim — that  the  strong  have  a title  to 
everything  they  can  acquire,  from  the  mere  strength  by  which  they  acquire 
it,  and  that  the  weak  and  incapable  have  no  reason  to  complain  if,  instead 
of  acquiring  property  of  their  own,  they  become  the  property  of  others. 
Theologians  of  divers  creeds  taught  that  everything  belongs  to  the  Gods 
and  is  given  by  them  to  those  whom  they  favour,  and  this,  being  almost 
identical  at  first  with  the  heathen  rule,  issued  afterwards  in  feudal  systems 
and  divine-right  dogmas.  Neither  philosophers  nor  jurists  were  able  to 


1 ‘Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ (1690),  b.  ii. , §§  26 — 28,  30. 


ir$p.  I 
Mt.  56. J 


locke’s  law  of  peopekty. 


173 


furnish  any  very  different  view  of  the  rights  of  property,  until  Locke  pro- 
pounded his  very  simple  and  incontrovertible  doctrine  that  the  right  of 
property  consists  in  labour  and  that  alone  ; that  everything  in  nature  is 
common,  except  each  individual’s  own  existence  and  the  capacities  attendant 
thereupon,  and  that  therefore  we  can  only  make  our  own  that  which  was 
formerly  common  by  putting  our  own  work  into  it  and  extracting  from  it, 
for  our  own  and  others’  benefit,  the  fruits  of  that  work.  It  was  a discovery 
almost  as  simple,  and  almost  as  evident  when  once  stated,  as  Newton’s 
discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation. 

Locke  developed  his  theory  at  some  length,  and  with  special  application 
to  particular  varieties  of  property,  of  which,  of  course,  land  was  the  principal; 
but  throughout  he  limited  the  right  of  possession  to  so  much  as,  acquired 
by  honest  labour,  can  be  put  to  good  use.  “ He  that  gathered  a hundred 
bushels  of  acorns  or  apples  had  hereby  a property  in  them.  They  were  his 
goods  as  soon  as  gathered.  He  was  only  to  look  that  he  used  them  before 
they  spoilt ; else  he  took  more  than  his  share,  and  robbed  others.  And 
indeed  it  was  a foolish  thing,  as  well  as  dishonest,  to  hoard  up  more  than 
he  could  make  use  of.  If  he  gave  away  a part  to  anybody  else,  so  that  it 
perished  not  uselessly  in  his  possession,  these  also  he  made  use  of ; and,  if 
he  bartered  away  plums,  that  would  have  rotted  in  a week,  for  nuts  that 
would  last  good  for  his  eating  a whole  year,  he  did  no  injury ; he  wasted 
not  the  common  stock,  destroyed  no  part  of  the  portion  of  goods  that 
belonged  to  others,  so  long  as  nothing  perished  uselessly  in  his  hand. 
Again,  if  he  would  give  his  nuts  for  a piece  of  metal,  pleased  with  its  colour, 
or  exchange  his  sheep  for  shells,  or  wool  for  a sparkling  pebble  or  diamond, 
and  keep  those  by  him  all  his  life,  he  invaded  not  the  rights  of  others ; he 
might  heap  up  as  much  of  these  durable  things  as  he  pleased,  the  exceeding 
of  the  bounds  of  his  just  property  not  lying  in  the  largeness  of  his  possession, 
but  in  the  perishing  of  anything  uselessly  in  it.  And  thus  came  in  the  use 
of  money,  some  lasting  thing  that  men  might  keep  without  spoiling,  and 
that,  by  mutual  consent,  men  would  take  in  exchange  for  the  truly  useful 
but  perishable  supports  of  life.”1  And  thus,  Locke  went  on  to  show, 
though  too  briefly  and  inadequately,  grew  up  those  social  inequalities  and 
complications  for  the  adjustment  of  which  civil  government  is  necessary. 

But  before  government  came  to  be  necessary  in  order  to  protect  the 
rights  and  interests  of  men  in  their  dealings  with  one  another,  it  arose 
from  the  necessities  of  family  life.  Locke,  like  Hobbes,  denied  that  parents 


1 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government’  (1690),  b.  ii. , §§  46,  47. 


174 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[CnAP.  XI. 


have  any  authority  over  children  from  the  fact  of  giving  them  life  : he  pro- 
bably held  that  the  obligation  presses  chiefly  in  the  other  direction,  and 
that  parents  owe  much  more  to  the  children  whom,  for  their  own  pleasure, 
they  bring  into  existence,  than  children  owe  to  the  parents  who  have 
recklessly  bestowed  on  them  such  a dangerous  gift.  Where  the  strong  help 
the  weak,  however,  it  is  reasonable  as  well  as  inevitable  that  the  weak 
should  be  in  a certain  subjection  to  the  strong  ; and  for  the  proper  education  of 
children  it  is  especially  necessary  that  their  parents  or  other  guardians  should 
have  “a  sort  of  rule  and  jurisdiction”  over  them.  “ The  bonds  of  this 
subjection  are  like  the  swaddling  clothes  they  are  wrapped  in  and  supported 
by  in  the  weakness  of  their  infancy ; age  and  reason,  as  they  grow  up, 
loosen  them,  till  at  length  they  drop  quite  off,  and  leave  a man  at  his  own 
free  disposal ; ” but  it  is  proper  they  should  exist,  and  their  existence  is  no 
mark  of  slavery,  while  the  children  are  too  young  to  live  alone.  Nor  is  it 
strange  that,  when  the  authority  allowable  to  parents  over  their  offspring  is 
exhausted,  it  should  be  replaced  by  the  authority  of  rulers  over  their  subjects. 
Thus,  Locke  said,  after  discussing  the  whole  matter  fully  and  very  forcibly, 
“ the  natural  fathers  of  families,  by  an  insensible  change  became  the  politic 
monarchs  of  them  too  ; and,  as  they  chanced  to  live  long  and  leave  able  and 
worthy  heirs  for  several  successions,  or  otherwise,  so  they  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  hereditary  or  elective  kingdoms,  under  several  constitutions  and 
manners,  according  as  chance,  contrivance,  or  occasions  happened  to  mould 
them.”  “ But  if  princes  have  their  titles  in  their  fathers’  right,  and  it  be  a 
sufficient  proof  of  the  natural  right  of  fathers  to  political  authority  because 
they  commonly  were  those  in  whose  hands  we  find,  de  facto,  the  exercise 
of  government,”  he  added,  in  a well-aimed  blow  at  the  ecclesiastics  who 
were  the  chief  supporters  of  Filmer’s  patriarchal  theory,  “I  say  if  this 
argument  be  good,  it  will  as  strongly  prove  that  all  princes,  nay,  princes 
only,  ought  to  be  priests,  since  it  is  as  certain  that,  in  the  beginning,  the 
father  of  the  family  was  priest,  as  that  he  was  ruler  in  his  own  household. ’,:1 
After  treating  of  the  relations  of  husband  and  wife  and  of  master  and 
servant  as  bearing  on  the  question  of  political  society,  Locke  proceeded  to 
the  more  immediate  subject  of  his  treatise.  “ Man  being  born,”  he  said, 
“ with  a title  to  perfect  freedom,  and  an  uncontrolled  enjoyment  of  all  the 
rights  and  privileges  of  the  law  of  nature,  equally  with  any  other  man  or 
number  of  men  in  the  world,  hath  by  nature  a power,  not  only  to  preserve 
his  property,  that  is,  his  life,  liberty  and  estate,  against  the  injuries  and 


1 ‘Two  Treatises  of  Government’  (1690),  b.  ii.,  §§  55,  76. 


16S9.  "I 
■2E*.  56  J 


THE  GROWTH  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


175 


attempts  of  other  men,  but  to  judge  of  and  punish  the  breaches  of  that  law 
in  others  as  he  is  persuaded  the  offence  deserves,  even  with  death  itself  in 
crimes  where  the  heinousness  of  the  fact,  in  his  opinion,  requires  it.  But 
because  no  political  society  can  be  nor  subsist  without  having  in  itself  the 
power  to  preserve  the  property,  and,  in  order  thereunto,  punish  the  offences, 
of  all  those  of  that  society,  there  and  there  only  is  political  society  where 
every  one  of  the  members  hath  quitted  this  natural  power,  resigned  it  up 
into  the  hands  of  the  community  in  all  cases  that  exclude  him  not  from 
appealing  for  protection  to  the  law  established  by  it.”  “ The  only  way 
whereby  any  one  divests  himself  of  his  natural  liberty,  and  puts  on  the 
bonds  of  civil  society,  is  by  agreeing  with  other  men  to  join  and  unite  into 
a community  for  their  comfortable,  safe,  and  peaceable  living  amongst  one 
another  in  a secure  enjoyment  of  their  properties  and  a greater  security 
against  any  that  are  not  of  it.  When  any  number  of  men  have  so  con- 
sented to  make  one  community  or  government,  they  are  thereby  presently 
incorporated  and  make  one  body  politic,  wherein  the  majority  have  a right 
to  act  and  conclude  the  rest.  For  when  any  number  of  men  have,  by  the 
consent  of  every  individual,  made  a community,  they  have  thereby  made 
that  community  one  body,  with  a power  to  act  as  one  body,  which  is  only 
by  the  will  and  determination  of  the  majority.”1  That  was  Locke’s 
Leviathan. 

To  the  objection  that  “ there  are  no  instances  to  be  found  in  story  of  a 
company  of  men  independent  and  equal  one  amongst  another,  that  met 
together  and  in  this  way  began  and  set  up  a government,”  he  answered 
that,  though  history  is  necessarily  very  vague  about  such  pre-historic  matters, 
“as  far  as  we  have  any  light  from  history  we  have  reason  to  conclude  that 
all  peaceful  beginnings  of  government  have  been  laid  in  the  consent  of  the 
people ; ” and  to  the  objection  that,  “ all  men  being  born  under  government, 
some  or  other,  it  is  impossible  any  of  them  should  ever  be  free  and  at  liberty 
to  unite  together  and  begin  a new  one,  or  ever  be  able  to  erect  a lawful 
government,”  he  replied  by  denying  that  any  man  becomes  so  entirely  the 
subject  of  a government  by  being  born  and  living  under  it  that  he  forfeits 
the  right  of  choosing  another.  “ Submitting  to  the  laws  of  any  country, 
living  quietly,  and  enjoying  privileges  and  protection  under  them,  no  more 
makes  a man  a member  of  that  society,  a perpetual  subject  of  that  common- 
wealth, than  it  would  make  a man  a subject  to  another  in  whose  family  he 
found  it  convenient  to  abide  for  some  time,  though  whilst  he  continued  in  it 


1 ‘Two  Treatises  of  Government’  (1690),  b.  ii.,  § § 87,  95,  96. 


176 


IN  AID  OP  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XT. 


be  would  be  obliged  to  comply  with  tbe  laws  and  submit  to  tbe  government 
be  found  there.  Nothing  can  make  any  man  so  but  bis  actually  entering 
into  it  by  positive  engagement  and  express  promise  and  compact.”  1 

From  that  bold  assertion  of  tbe  independence  of  citizens  Locke  went  on 
to  make  other  and  yet  bolder  assertions.  “ Tbe  great  and  chief  end  of  men’s 
uniting  into  commonwealths,  and  putting  themselves  under  government,” 
be  said,  “ is  the  preservation  of  their  property,”  and  “ tbe  first  and  funda- 
mental positive  law  of  all  commonwealths  is  the  establishing  of  the  legislative 
power.”  “Though  it  be  tbe  supreme  power  in  every  commonwealth,” 
however,  “ tbe  legislative  is  not,  nor  can  possibly  be,  absolutely  arbitrary 
over  tbe  lives  and  fortunes  of  the  people  ; for,  it  being  but  tbe  joint  power  of 
every  member  of  tbe  society  given  up  to  that  person  or  assembly  which  is  legis- 
lator, it  can  be  no  more  than  those  persons  had  in  a state  of  nature  before 
they  entered  into  society  and  gave  up  to  tbe  community;  for  nobody  can 
transfer  to  another  more  power  than  be  has  in  himself,  and  no  man  has  an 
absolute  arbitrary  power  over  himself,  or  over  any  other,  to  destroy  his 
own  life,  or  take  away  tbe  life  or  property  of  another.  The  legislative 
power,  in  tbe  utmost  bounds  of  it,  is  limited  to  the  public  good  of  tbe 
society.  It  is  a power  that  bath  no  other  end  but  preservation,  and  there- 
fore can  never  have  a right  to  destroy,  enslave,  or  designedly  to  impoverish 
the  subjects.”  Again,  “tbe  legislative  or  supreme  authority  cannot  assume 
to  itself  a power  to  rule  by  extemporary  arbitrary  decrees,  but  is  bound  to 
dispense  justice  and  decide  tbe  rights  of  tbe  subject  by  promulgated  standing 
laws  and  known  authorised  judges.”  “ Tbe  supreme  power,”  moreover, 
“ cannot  take  from  any  man  any  part  of  bis  property  without  his  consent ; 
for  I have  truly  no  property  in  that  which  another  can  by  right  take  from 
me,  when  be  pleases,  against  my  consent.  It  is  true,  governments  cannot 
be  supported  without  great  charge,  and  it  is  fit  every  one  who  enjoys  his 
share  of  tbe  protection  should  pay  out  of  his  estate  bis  proportion  for  the 
maintenance  of  it ; but  still  it  must  be  with  bis  own  consent,  that  is,  tbe 
consent  of  tbe  majority,  giving  it  either  by  themselves  or  their  representa- 
tives chosen  by  them  ; for,  if  any  one  shall  claim  a power  to  lay  and  levy 
taxes  on  tbe  people  by  bis  own  authority,  and  without  such  consent  of  the 
people,  he  thereby  invades  the  fundamental  law  of  property  and  subverts 
the  end  of  government.”  Finally,  “ tbe  legislative  cannot  transfer  the 
power  of  making  laws  to  any  other  bands.  Tbe  people  alone  can  appoint 
tbe  form  of  tbe  commonwealth,  which  is  by  constituting  tbe  legislative  and 


1 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ (1690),  b.  ii. , §§  100, 112,  113,  122. 


1689.  "I 
jEt.  56. J 


LEGISLATIVE  POWER,  AND  ITS  LIMITS. 


177 


appointing  in  whose  hands  it  shall  be  ; and  when  the  people  have  said, 
‘ We  will  submit  to  rules  and  be  governed  by  laws  made  by  such  men  and 
in  such  forms,’  nobody  else  can  say  other  men  shall  make  laws  for  them  ; 
nor  can  the  people  be  bound  by  any  laws  but  such  as  are  enacted  by  those 
whom  they  have  chosen  and  authorised  to  make  laws  for  them.  The  power 
of  the  legislative,  being  derived  from  the  people  by  a positive  voluntary 
grant  and  institution,  can  be  no  other  than  what  that  positive  grant  conveyed, 
which  being  only  to  make  laws  and  not  to  make  legislators,  the  legislative 
can  have  no  power  to  transfer  their  authority  of  making  laws  and  place  it 
in  other  hands.”  1 Locke  implied  a good  deal  in  those  four  points  of  his 
charter. 

“ In  a commonwealth  acting  for  the  preservation  of  the  community,”  he 
said,  “ there  can  be  but  one  supreme  power,  which  is  the  legislative,  to 
which  all  the  rest  are  and  must  be  subordinate.”  It  is  quite  in  the  power 
of  the  legislature,  and  often  expedient  for  it,  to  delegate  the  executive 
power  to  some  other  person  or  persons ; and  it  is  often  convenient  to 
designate  that  person,  or,  where  there  are  many,  the  chief  of  the  number, 
by  the  familiar  title  of  king,  and  even  to  make  his  power  very  considerable ; 
but  in  a real  commonwealth  the  king  can  never  be  more  than  the  agent  of 
the  legislature.  “ Though  oaths  of  allegiance  and  fealty  are  taken  to  him, 
it  is  not  to  him  as  supreme  legislator,  but  as  supreme  executor  of  the  law ; 
allegiance  being  nothing  but  an  obedience  according  to  law,  which,  when 
he  violates,  he  has  no  right  to  obedience,  nor  can  claim  it  otherwise  than  as 
the  public  person  vested  with  the  power  of  the  law,  and  so  is  to  be  con- 
sidered as  the  image,  phantom,  or  representative  of  the  commonwealth  and 
thus  he  has  no  will,  no  power,  but  that  of  the  law.  But  when  he  quits 
this  representation,  this  public  will,  and  acts  by  his  own  private  will,  he 
degrades  himself,  and  is  but  a single  private  person  without  power,  and 
without  will  that  has  any  right  to  obedience  ; the  members  owing  no 
obedience  but  to  the  public  will  of  the  society.”  2 

It  is  not  necessary  to  show  how  completely  that  concisely  stated  view 
was  opposed  to  all  divine-right  theories  and  all  the  pretensions  not  only 
of  Stuart  and  pre-Stuart  monarchs,  but  of  presbyterian  and  Cromwellian 
oligarchs  ; and  how,  though  it  was  welcomed  by  the  whig  supporters  of 
William  the  Third,  and  has  suggested  the  main  point  in  the  whig  creed  of 


1 ‘Two  Treatises  of  Government’  (1690),  b.  ii.,  §§  124,  134 — 136,  133, 
140,  141. 

2 Ibid.,  b.  ii.,  §§  149,  151 . 

Vol.  II.— 12 


178 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


the  past  five  generations,  it  implies  a much  more  democratic  rule  of  govern- 
ment than  whigs  have  ever  been  inclined  to  adopt. 

Holding  that  legislation  can  only  be  effected  for  themselves  by  the  people, 
acting  through  duly  chosen  representatives,  Locke  in  one  remarkable  para- 
graph anticipated  the  necessity  of  periodical  redistribution  of  the  electoral 
power  in  order  to  preserve  a just  representation  of  the  people.  “ Things 
of  this  world,”  he  said,  “ are  in  so  constant  a flux  that  nothing  remains 
long  in  the  same  state.  Thus  people,  riches,  trade,  power,  change  their 
stations ; flourishing  mighty  cities  come  to  ruin,  and  prove  in  time  neg- 
lected desolate  corners,  whilst  other  unfrequented  places  grow  into  populous 
countries,  filled  with  wealth  and  inhabitants.  But,  things  not  always  chang- 
ing equally,  and  private  interest  often  keeping  up  customs  and  privileges 
when  the  reasons  of  them  are  ceased,  it  often  comes  to  pass  that  in  tract  of 
time  the  representation  becomes  very  unequal  and  disproportionate  to  the 
reasons  it  was  at  first  established  upon.  To  what  gross  absurdities  the 
following  of  custom,  when  reason  has  left  it,  may  lead,  we  may  be  satisfied 
when  we  see  the  hare  name  of  a towm,  of  which  there  remains  not  so  much 
as  the  ruins,  where  scarce  so  much  housing  as  a sheep-cote  or  more  inhabit- 
ants than  a shepherd  is  to  be  found,  sends  as  many  representatives  to  the 
grand  assembly  ol  law-makers  as  a whole  county  numerous  in  people  and 
powerful  in  riches.”  1 

We  need  not  here  follow  Locke  through  the  important  chapters  on  pre- 
rogative, on  conquest,  on  usurpation,  on  tyranny,  and  on  “the  dissolution 
of  government,”  in  which  he  completed  his  exposition  of  “ the  extent  and 
end  of  civil  government,”  and  at  the  same  time,  without  openly  referring  to 
the  state  of  England  under  James  the  Second,  and  to  the  immediate  circum- 
stances of  the  Revolution,  very  skilfully  defended  the  policy  that  was 
adopted  by  William  of  Orange  at  the  instigation  of  the  whig  leaders  of  the 
day.  “ The  power  that  every  individual  gave  the  society  ” — that  is,  the 
corporate  community — “ when  he  entered  it,”  he  said  in  his  concluding 
paragraph,  “ can  never  revert  to  the  individuals  again  as  long  as  the  society 
lasts,  but  will  always  remain  in  the  community ; because  without  this  there 
can  be  no  community,  no  commonwealth,  which  is  contrary  to  the  original 
agreement.  So,  also,  when  the  society  hath  placed  the  legislative  in  any 
assembly  of  men,  to  continue  in  them  and  their  successors,  with  direction 
and  authority  for  providing  such  successors,  the  legislative  can  never  revert 
to  the  people  whilst  that  government  lasts,  because,  having  provided  a 


1 ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ (1090),  b.  ii.,  § 157. 


it856.]  THE  sovereignty  of  the  people.  179 

legislative  with  power  to  continue  for  ever,  they  have  given  up  their  political 
power  to  the  legislative  and  cannot  resume  it.  But  if  they  have  set  some 
limits  to  the  duration  of  their  legislative,  and  made  this  supreme  power  in 
any  person  or  assembly  only  temporary,  or  else  when  by  the  miscarriage  of 
those  in  authority  it  is  forfeited,  upon  the  forfeiture  or  at  the  determination 
of  the  time  set  it  reverts  to  the  society,  and  the  people  have  a right  to  act 
as  supreme,  and  continue  the  legislative  in  themselves,  or  erect  a new  form, 
or  under  the  old  form  place  it  in  new  hands,  as  they  think  good.”  1 

As  a treatise  on  “ the  original,  extent  and  end  of  civil 
government,”  Locke’s  essay  was  faulty  in  some  respects 
and  defective  in  others  ; but,  if  suggested  in  part  by 
Hobbes’s  ‘ De  Cive,’  and  if  in  some  measure  weakened  by 
a desire  to  serve  in  it  the  cause  of  William  of  Orange,  just 
as  Hobbes’s  treatise  was  weakened  by  a desire  to  serve 
the  cause  of  Charles  the  First,  it  was  a work  of  very  great 
originality,  abounding  in  passages  no  less  valuable  for 
their  practical  purpose  than  for  their  philosophical  accu- 
racy. The  extracts  that  have  been  made  from  it  will 
show,  without  comment,  what  was  Locke’s  ideal  of 
political  organisation  and  what  an  excellent  Leviathan  he 
set  up  for  political  theorists  to  study. 

Grod  made  men  free  and  equal,  and  capable  of  immense 
improvement  upon  the  rude  state  of  nature  in  which  they 
were  first  planted.  For  that  improvement  it  is  necessary 
that  they  should,  without  sacrificing  any  of  their  natural 
liberty,  subject  it  to  such  restraints  as  will  enable  them 
to  unite  in  political  action,  and  out  of  an  aggregate 
of  individuals  construct  a commonwealth.  They  may 
and,  if  in  large  numbers,  must  delegate  to  properly  chosen 
representatives  the  power  of  legislating  for  the  whole 
community,  and  that  legislative  may  and,  in  many  cases, 
should  delegate  the  duty  of  executing  its  laws  to  some 

1 ‘Two  Treatises  of  Government’  (1690),  b.  ii.,  § 243. 


180 


IN  AID  OF  THE  EEYOLUTION. 


[Chap,  XI. 


magisterial  functionary  or  king;  but  the  people  is  sovereign, 
and  “ salus  populi  suprema  lex.” 

That,  in  brief,  was  Locke’s  doctrine.  He  did  not 
inquire  with  sufficient  exactness  what  should  he  the 
details  of  governmental  action  ; it  suited  better  his  im- 
mediate purpose  to  show  how  falsely  conceived  or  per- 
verted theories  of  governmental  action,  such  as  Charles 
the  Second  and  James  the  Second  and  their  advisers  had 
indulged  in,  were  altogether  unlawful,  and  not  only  might 
but  should  be  resisted. 

Had  he  intended  to  produce  a strictly  philosophical 
treatise,  he  would  probably  have  written  very  differently, 
though  not  at  all  at  variance,  from  the  views  that  he  did 
express.  Had  he  intended  to  produce  a mere  political 
pamphlet,  his  work  would  have  been  yet  more  different 
from  the  essay  which  he  did  write.  But  he  combined 
both  objects,  and  there  cannot  be  much  doubt  that, 
whether  the  first  of  the  two  ‘ Treatises  on  Government  ’ 
was  written  then  or  earlier,  the  second  was  planned,  if 
not  completed,  during  the  last  period  of  his  residence  in 
Holland,  partly  to  justify  to  himself  his  own  share  in  the 
rebellion  against  James  the  Second,  yet  more  to  justify 
the  action  of  his  friends  in  placing  William  of  Orange  on 
the  English  throne. 

In  that  respect  it  was  of  great  immediate  service  ; and 
it  afterwards  came  to  be  of  greater  and  more  lasting  value 
as  a contribution  to  the  science  of  politics  and  an  unan- 
swerable assertion  of  the  rights  of  the  people  to  govern 
themselves  for  their  common  benefit. 


The  ‘Epistola  de  Tolerantia’  having  been  published 
in  the  spring  of  1689,  the  ‘Essay  concerning  Human 


^ 56-57.1  THE  toleration  controversy.  181 

Understanding’  being  out  of  bis  bands  by  the  close  of  the 
year,  and  the  ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government  ’ at  about  the 
same  time,  Locke  soon  found  other  work  to  do  with  his 
pen,  which  was  hardly  less  intimately  connected  with  the 
political  well-being  of  the  commonwealth  than  the  essay 
on  ‘ Civil  Government  ’ itself.  Some  of  this  work  grew 
out  of  the  first-named  treatise. 

We  have  seen  that  he  had  no  hand  in  Popple’s 
English  translation  of  that  treatise,  though  he  was  well 
pleased  that  it  should  have  been  undertaken  and  well 
satisfied  with  the  work  when  it  was  done.  He  appears 
not  to  have  even  seen  a copy  of  the  original  publication 
for  some  time  after  it  had  been  issued,  and  it  was  all  but 
unknown  in  England  until  the  toleration  act  had  been 
passed,  and  almost  until  the  comprehension  bill  had 
been  finally  suppressed.  “ I thank  you,”  he  wrote  to 
Limborch  in  June,  “ for  the  copies  of  the  tract  on  tolera- 
tion which  you  have  sent  me.”  1 “I  wish,”  he  said  three 
months  later,  “that  you  would  send  me  the  Dutch  and 
French  translations  of  the  tract.  I am  surprised  at  the 
carelessness  of  your  booksellers  or  ours.  I cannot  buy 
a copy  of  the  ‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia’  anywhere.”2 

The  English  version  of  the  letter,  however,  which  was 
published  in  the  autumn,  must  have  been  widely  read,  as 
a second  edition  had  to  be  issued  before  the  close  of  the 
.year.  At  least  two  answers  to  it  were  printed,  moreover, 
early  in  1690.  Of  one,  ‘ The  Letter  for  Toleration  deci- 
phered, and  the  Absurdity  and  Impiety  of  an  Absolute 
Toleration  demonstrated  by  the  Judgment  of  Presbyterians, 
Independents,  and  by  Mr.  Calvin,  Mr.  Baxter,  and  the 

1 * Familiar  Letters,’  p.  3B1 ; Locke  to  Limborch,  6 June,  1689. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  10  Sept., 
1689. 


182 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


Parliament  of  1662,’  written  bjr  Thomas  Long,1  Locke 
seems  to  have  taken  no  notice  ; but  he  quickly  replied  at 
some  length  to  the  other,  4 The  Argument  of  the  44  Letter 
concerning  Toleration”  briefly  Considered  and  Answered,’ 
which  was  written  by  Jonas  Proast,  and  published  at 
Oxford  in  April,  1690.  Locke’s  4 Second  Letter  concern- 
ing Toleration,’  which  he  issued  under  the  pseudonym  of 
Philanthropus,  was  dated  the  27th  of  May,  and  printed 
in  June  of  the  same  year.  To  this  Proast  rejoined,  in 
February  1690-1,  in  4 A Third  Letter  concerning  Tolera- 
tion, in  Defence  of  44  The  Argument  of  the  Letter  con- 
cerning Toleration  briefly  Considered  and  Answered,’” 
and  Locke  closed  the  controversy,  for  twelve  years  at 
any  rate,  in  4 A Third  Letter  for  Toleration,’  also  signed 
Philanthropus,  and  dated  the  20th  of  June,  1692. 

Such  full  illustration  has  been  given  of  Locke’s  earlier 
writings  on  the  subject  of  these  second  and  third  letters 
that  little  need  here  he  said  about  them.  He  carefully 
examined  Proast’s  flimsy  arguments  and  assertions  based 
on  prejudice  instead  of  argument,  and  answered  him  para- 
graph by  paragraph.  That  was  undoubtedly  the  right 
mode  of  procedure,  and  he  was  thus  able  to  make  a com- 
plete defence  and  eloquent  reiteration  of  his  doctrine  that 
the  civil  government  has  no  right  to  interfere  with  the 
religion  of  any  one  who  does  not  use  that  religion  as  a 
cloak  for  seeking  to  damage  the  civil  interests  of  the 
community.  But  thereby  the  letters  suffered  as  literary 
compositions ; and  in  these  later  days,  when  Locke’s 
opinions  have  come  to  be  almost  regarded  as  truisms,  his 
abundant  defence  and  reinforcement  of  them  are  compara- 
tively uninteresting,  except  for  their  evidence  of  his  skill 

1 Wood  speaks  of  this  pamphlet  in  his  * Athense  Oxonienses.’  I have  not 
found  a copy. 


1690-2.  I 
■ffit.  67— 59.J 


THE  TOLERATION  CONTROVERSY. 


183 


in  the  appropriate  use  of  banter  and  scorn,  along  with 
sober  argument,  as  weapons  of  controversy,  and  for  the 
new  utterances  made  in  them  of  his  remarkably  sound 
and  statesmanly  opinions. 

One  quotation  from  the  ‘ Third  Letter  for  Toleration  ’ 
will  suffice  to  show  how  boldly  Locke  argued,  not  only  in 
favour  of  religious  liberty  as  an  abstract  question,  but  also 
in  favour  of  that  full  measure  of  toleration  and  compre- 
hension which  he  had  vainly  hoped  to  see  adopted  by 
William  the  Third  and  the  convention  parliament,  and 
the  ultimate  adoption  of  which  he  still  longed  for. 

“ Through  the  goodness  of  God,”  Proast  had  said, “ the 
truth  that  is  necessary  to  salvation  lies  so  obvious  and 
exposed  to  all  that  sincerely  and  diligently  seek  it  that  no 
such  person  shall  ever  fail  of  attaining  the  knowledge 
of  it.”1 

“This,”  exclaimed  Locke,  “will  be  a good  answer  to  what  I objected 
from  the  danger  most  are  in  to  be  led  into  error  by  the  magistrate’s  adding 
force  to  the  arguments  for  their  national  established  religions,  when  you 
have  shown  that  nothing  is  wont  to  be  imposed  in  national  religions  but 
what  is  necessary  to  salvation,  or,  which  will  a little  better  accommodate 
your  hypothesis,  when  you  can  show  that  nothing  is  imposed  or  required 
for  communion  with  the  church  of  England  but  what  is  necessary  to  salva- 
tion, and  consequently  is  very  easy  and  obvious  to  be  known  and  distin- 
guished from  falsehood.  And,  indeed,  besides  what  you  say  here,  upon 
your  hypothesis  that  force  is  lawful  only  because  it  is  necessary  to  bring 
men  to  salvation,  it  cannot  be  lawful  to  use  it  to  bring  men  to  anything 
but  what  is  absolutely  necessary  to  salvation.  For,  if  the  lawfulness  of  force 
be  only  from  the  need  men  have  of  it  to  bring  them  to  salvation,  it  cannot 
lawfully  be  used  to  bring  men  to  that  which  they  do  not  need,  or  is  not 
necessary  to  their  salvation ; for  in  such  an  application  of  it  it  is  not  need- 
ful to  their  salvation.  Can  you  therefore  say  that  there  is  nothing  required 
to  be  believed  and  professed  in  the  church  of  England,  but  what  lies  ‘ so 
obvious  and  exposed  to  all  that  sincerely  and  diligently  seek  it  that  no  such 


1 ‘ A Third  Letter  concerning  Toleration’  (1691),  p.  29. 


184 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


person  shall  ever  fail  of  attaining  the  knowledge  of  it’?  What  think  you  of 
St.  Athanasius’s  creed  ? Is  the  sense  of  that  so  obvious  and  exposed  to 
every  one  who  seeks  it  which  so  many  learned  men  have  explained  so 
different  ways,  and  which  yet  a great  many  profess  they  cannot  under- 
stand ? Or  is  it  necessary  to  your  or  my  salvation  that  you  or  I should 
believe  and  pronounce  all  those  damned  who  do  not  believe  that  creed, 
that  is,  every  proposition  in  it  ? which  I fear  would  extend  to  not  a few  of 
the  church  of  England,  unless  we  can  think  that  people  believe,  that  is, 
assent  to  the  truth  of  propositions  they  do  not  at  all  understand.  If  ever 
you  were  acquainted  with  a country  parish,  you  must  needs  have  a strange 
opinion  of  them,  if  you  think  all  the  ploughmen  and  milkmaids  at  church 
understood  all  the  propositions  in  Athanasius’s  creed  ; it  is  more,  truly,  than 
I should  be  apt  to  think  of  any  one  of  them,  and  yet  I cannot  hence  believe 
myself  authorised  to  judge  or  pronounce  them  all  damned.  It  is  too  bold 
an  intrenching  on  the  prerogative  of  the  Almighty.  To  their  own  master 
they  stand  or  fall.  The  doctrine  of  original  sin  is  that  which  is  professed 
and  must  be  owned  by  the  members  of  the  church  of  England,  as  is  evident 
from  the  thirty-nine  articles  and  several  passages  in  the  liturgy;  and  yet 
1 ask  you  whether  this  be  ‘ so  obvious  and  exposed  to  all  that  diligently  and 
sincerely  seek  the  truth,’  that  one  who  is  in  the  communion  of  the  church 
of  England,  sincerely  seeking  the  truth,  may  not  raise  to  himself  such  diffi- 
culties concerning  the  doctrine  of  original  sin  as  may  puzzle  him,  though  he 
be  a man  of  study,  and  whether  he  may  not  push  his  inquiries  so  far  as  to 
be  staggered  in  his  opinion  ? If  you  grant  me  this,  as  I am  apt  to  think  you 
will,  then  I inquire  whether  it  be  not  true,  notwithstanding  what  you  say 
concerning  the  plainness  and  obviousness  of  truths  necessary  to  salvation, 
that  a great  part  of  mankind  may  not  be  able  to  discern  between  truth  and 
falsehood  in  several  points  which  are  thought  so  far  to  concern  their  salva- 
tion as  to  be  made  necessary  parts  of  the  national  religion  ? ” 1 

Tlie  ‘ Third  Letter  for  Toleration  ’ was  not  published  till 
after  the  period  we  are  now  considering  ; but  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  the  opinions  there  expressed  by  Locke,  both 
on  religious  questions  and  on  the  relation  of  the  state 
towards  them,  were  held  no  less  clearly  and  strongly 
during  the  previous  year  or  two. 

1 ‘Four  Letters  on  Toleration’  (1870),  pp.  282,  288.  Not  having  the 
original  editions  of  Locke’s  letters  at  hand,  I have  referred  to  this,  the 
latest,  cheapest  and  most  complete  reprint  of  them. 


j®8*.]  THE  SOCIETY  OF  PACIFIC  CHBISTIANS.  185 

Of  the  way  in  which  he  combined  with  these  theoreti- 
cal opinions  a very  practical  expression  of  his  religion, 
remarkable  evidence  appears  in  the  following  creed,  or 
code  of  rules,  or.  constitution,  that  he  drew  up  for  a small 
“ society  of  Pacific  Christians”  which  he  and  some  of  his 
principal  friends  are  said  to  have  formed  in  1 689  : — 

“ 1.  We  think  nothing  necessary  to  be  known  or  believed  for  salvation, 
but  what  God  hath  revealed. 

“ 2.  We  therefore  embrace  all  those  who,  in  sincerity,  receive  the  word 
of  truth  revealed  in  the  Scripture,  and  obey  the  light  which  enlightens  every 
man  that  comes  into  the  world. 

“ 3.  We  judge  no  man  in  meats,  or  drinks,  or  habits,  or  days,  or  any  other 
outward  observances,  but  leave  every  one  to  his  freedom  in  the  use  of  those 
outward  things  which  he  thinks  can  most  contribute  to  build  up  the  inward 
man  in  righteousness,  holiness,  and  the  true  love  of  God  and  his  neighbour, 
in  Christ  Jesus. 

“ 4.  If  any  one  find  any  doctrinal  parts  of  Scripture  difficult  to  be  under- 
stood, we  recommend  him, — 1st,  The  study  of  the  Scriptures  in  humility 
and  singleness  of  heart ; 2nd,  Prayer  to  the  Father  of  lights  to  enlighten 
him ; 3rd,  Obedience  to  what  is  already  revealed  to  him,  remembering  that 
the  practice  of  what  we  do  know  is  the  surest  way  to  more  knowledge  ; our 
infallible  guide  having  told  us,  ‘ If  any  man  will  do  the  will  of  him  that 
sent  me,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine.’  4th,  We  leave  him  to  the  advice 
and  assistance  of  those  whom  he  thinks  best  able  to  instruct  him,  no  men  or 
society  of  men  having  any  authority  to  impose  their  opinions  or  interpreta- 
tions on  any  other,  the  meanest  Christian,  since,  in  matters  of  religion,  every 
man  must  know  and  believe  and  give  an  account  for  himself. 

“ 5.  We  hold  it  to  be  an  indispensable  duty  for  all  Christians  to  maintain 
love  and  charity  in  the  diversity  of  contrary  opinions  : by  which  charity  we 
do  not  mean  an  empty  sound,  but  an  effectual  forbearance  and  good-will, 
carrying  men  to  a communion,  friendship,  and  mutual  assistance  one  of 
another,  in  outward  as  well  as  spiritual  things ; and  by  debarring  all 
magistrates  from  making  use  of  their  authority,  much  less  their  sword  (which 
was  put  into  their  hands  only  against  evil-doers),  in  matters  of  faith  or 
worship. 

“ 6.  Since  the  Christian  religion  we  profess  is  not  a notional  science,  to 
furnish  speculation  to  the  brain  or  discourse  to  the  tongue,  but  a rule  of 
righteousness  to  influence  our  lives,  Christ  having  given  himself  ‘ to  redeem 


186 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


us  from  all  iniquity,  and  purify  unto  himself  a people  zealous  of  good 
works,’  we  profess  the  only  business  of  our  public  assemblies  to  be  to 
exhort,  thereunto  laying  aside  all  controversy  and  speculative  questions, 
instruct  and  encourage  one  another  in  the  duties  of  a good  life,  which  is 
acknowledged  to  he  the  great  business  of  true  religion,  and  to  pray  God 
for  the  assistance  of  his  spirit  for  the  enlightening  our  understanding  and 
subduing  our  corruptions,  that  so  we  may  return  unto  him  a reasonable  and 
acceptable  service,  and  show  our  faith  by  our  works,  proposing  to  ourselves 
and  others  the  example  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  great 
pattern  for  our  imitation. 

“ 7.  One  alone  being  our  Master,  even  Christ,  we  acknowledge  no  masters 
of  our  assembly  ; but,  if  any  man  in  the  spirit  of  love,  peace,  and  meekness, 
has  a word  of  exhortation,  we  hear  him. 

“ 8.  Nothing  being  so  oppressive,  or  having  proved  so  fatal  to  unity,  love, 
and  charity,  the  first  great  characteristical  duties  of  Christianity,  as  men’s 
fondness  of  their  own  opinions,  and  their  endeavours  to  set  them  up,  and 
have  them  followed,  instead  of  the  gospel  of  peace  ; to  prevent  those  seeds 
of  dissension  and  division,  and  maintain  unity  in  the  difference  of  opinions 
which  we  know  cannot  be  avoided — if  any  one  appear  contentious,  abounding 
in  his  own  sense  rather  than  in  love,  and  desirous  to  draw  followers  after 
himself,  with  destruction  or  opposition  to  others,  we  judge  him  not  to  have 
learnt  Christ  as  he  ought,  and  therefore  not  fit  to  be  a teacher  of  others. 

“ 9.  Decency  and  order  in  our  assemblies  being  directed,  as  they  ought, 
to  edification,  can  need  but  very  few  and  plain  rules.  Time  and  place  of 
meeting  being  settled,  if  anything  else  need  regulation,  the  assembly  itself, 
or  four  of  the  ancientest,  soberest,  and  discreetest  of  the  brethren,  chosen 
for  that  occasion,  shall  regulate  it. 

“ 10.  From  every  brother  that,  after  admonition,  walketh  disorderly,  we 
withdraw  ourselves. 

“ 11.  We  each  of  us  think  it  our  duty  to  propagate  the  doctrine  and  prac- 
tice of  universal  good-will  and  obedience  in  all  places,  and  on  all  occasions, 
as  God  shall  give  us  opportunity.”  1 

It  is  not  at  all  likely  that  Locke’s  altogether  unsec- 
tarian  sect  of  Pacific  Christians  ever  got  to  the  holding 
of  “public  assemblies,”  and  the  constitution  that  he 
drew  up  for  them  may  never  even  have  been  formally 


1 Lord  King,  pp.  273—275. 


™s%]  THE  SOCIETY  OP  PACIFIC  CHRISTIANS.  187 

adopted  by  the  few  who  agreed  with  him  in  his  very 
liberal  religions  opinions.  That  document  is  of  great 
interest,  however,  as  showing,  not  only  his  ideal  of  a 
Christian  community,  but  also  the  principles  that  actuated 
him  and  the  few  younger  men,  like  Lord  Pembroke  and 
Lord  Ashley,  James  Tyrrell,  Edward  Clarke,  and,  among 
some  others,  after  he  had  introduced  himself  to  Locke  by 
his  translation  of  the  ‘ Letter  concerning  Toleration,’ 
William  Popple. 


Not  the  least,  though  almost  the  least  recognised,  of 
Locke’s  services  in  aid  of  good  government  and  national 
prosperity  under  William  the  Third  consisted  in  the 
publication  of  ‘ Some  Considerations  of  the  Consequences 
of  the  Lowering  of  Interest  and  Raising  the  Value  of 
Money,’  and  in  the  persistent  advocacy  among  men  of 
influence  of  the  opinions  there  expressed.  This  little 
book,  published  anonymously  in  1692,  took  the  shape  of 
a letter,  dated  the  7th  of  November,  1691,  addressed  to 
an  unnamed  member  of  parliament,  who,  however,  was 
doubtless  Sir  John  Somers,  Locke’s  friend  and  King 
William’s  solicitor  general,  one  of  the  very  few  public 
men  sufficiently  patriotic  and  intelligent  to  understand 
and  adopt  its  principles.  Somers  did  that,  at  any  rate, 
and  as  he  was  afterwards  iu  clobe  communication  with 
Locke  on  the  subject,  we  may  infer  that  it  was  he  who, 
as  Locke  said  in  his  preface,  “ put  him  upon  looking  out 
his  old  papers  concerning  the  reducing  of  interest  to  four 
per  cent.,”  which  had  been  written  “ near  twenty  years 
since,”  and  had  “long  lain  by  forgotten.” 

“ Near  twenty  years  since,”  that  is,  in  1672,  it  will 
be  remembered,  the  first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  was  lord 


188 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XL 


chancellor,  and  Locke  was  his  chief  adviser  on  state 
affairs.  Charles  the  Second’s  government  was  so  em- 
barrassed that  the  famous  “ stop  on  the  exchequer”  was 
resorted  to,  contrary  to  Shaftesbury’s  advice,  and  this 
royal  theft,  though  the  cause  of  much  fresh  commercial 
disaster,  was  only  a notable  indication  of  the  false  views 
and  vicious  customs  that  at  that  time,  as  well  as  in  the 
times  before  and  after,  generally  prevailed  in  the  country, 
and  did  much  to  lessen  the  immense  advantages  that 
necessarily  followed  from  the  establishment  of  our  colonies 
in  America  and  the  West  Indies,  and  the  opening  up  of 
new  channels  of  commerce  with  the  East  Indies.  Locke, 
himself  a sharer  in  more  than  one  important  colonial  and 
commercial  adventure,  the  chief  agent  in  the  formation 
of  the  new  colony  of  Virginia,  and  for  some  time  the 
secretary  of  Charles  the  Second’s  council  of  trade  and 
plantations,  took  a great  interest  in  all  the  questions  thus 
directly  and  indirectly  brought  before  him,  in  a more 
philosophical,  and  not  less  practical,  temper  than  appeared 
in  the  ‘ Brief  Observations  concerning  Trade  and  the 
Interest  of  Money,’  and  the  ‘ New  Discourse  of  Trade,’ 
both  written  by  Sir  Josiah  Child,  the  foremost  merchant 
of  that  day,  and  in  the  ‘ Discourses  upon  Trade  ’ of  Sir 
Dudley  North,  another  great  merchant.  The  first  named 
of  those  treatises,  published  in  1665,  must  have  the  credit 
of  doing  more  than  any  other  single  publication,  by  its 
own  wise  teaching  on  some  points,  joined  with  erroneous 
opinions  on  others,  and  yet  more  by  the  controversy  that 
it  provoked,  to  encourage  those  principles  of  free  trade  by 
which  the  material  prosperity  of  England  has  been  so 
mightily  advanced. 

What  Locke  thought  on  at  least  one  important  branch 
of  the  subject  as  early  as  1672  may  be  understood  from 


Jt69Jg]  TREATISES  ON  MONEY  AND  THE  COINAGE.  189 

the  reproduction  of  his  arguments  thereupon  in  1691, 
though  these  arguments,  if  occupying  the  chief  space  in 
the  work,  were  of  less  immediate  importance  than  the 
“notions  concerning  coinage  ” which  he  also  included  in 
it ; these  latter,  he  said,  “ having  for  the  main  been  put 
into  writing  above  twelve  months  since,”  and  being  now, 
along  with  the  rest,  published  at  the  request  of  the 
member  of  parliament  to  whom  they  were  dedicated. 
“ You  must  be  answerable  to  the  world,”  he  added,  “for 
the  style,  which  is  such  as  a man  writes  carelessly  to  his 
friend,  when  he  seeks  truth,  not  ornament,  and  studies 
only  to  be  in  the  right  and  to  be  understood.” 

Plain,  ungarnished  words  were  certainly  the  best  for 
putting  in  an  intelligible  shape  the  economical  problem 
which  more  perhaps  than  all  others  had  been  misappre- 
hended and  misstated  by  men  of  business  and  their 
advisers,  biassed  by  theologians  and  prejudiced  by  poli- 
ticians, through  all  the  centuries  before  Locke’s  time. 
It  might  be  supposed  that  every  one  having  anything  to 
do  with  money  would  have  at  any  rate  some  knowledge 
of  the  meaning  of  the  term  and  the  value  of  the  thing, 
but  few  terms  or  things  have  been  more  persistently 
mystified,  and  from  Locke’s  exposition,  coming  almost 
like  a revelation  in  his  own  day,  and  as  such  rendering 
immense  service  to  society,  the  world  still  has  much  to 
learn. 

Interest,  or  usury,  was  universally  denounced  in  Eng- 
land all  through  the  middle  ages  ; and,  though  kings  and 
priests,  as  well  as  all  classes  of  the  people  over  whom 
they  tyrannised,  were  eager  enough  to  borrow  money,  and 
the  country  was  never  without  a large  body  of  money- 
lenders, the  Jews  and  others  who  made  up  that  body 
were  looked  upon  as  outcasts,  debarred  from  all  the 


190 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XL 


privileges  of  this  world  or  the  next,  left  to  the  mercy  of 
all  who  chose  to  rob  or  defraud  them,  and  therefore  driven 
to  seek  some  compensation  for  the  hardships  to  which 
they  were  exposed  by  charging  ten  or  a hundred  times  as 
much  interest  for  the  use  of  their  money  as  under  a 
healthy  arrangement  would  have  satisfied  them.  A fiist 
step  towards  that  arrangement,  naturally  very  faulty,  was 
made  in  Henry  the  Eighth’s  reign,  and  in  1546  usury 
was  legalised  at  the  rate  of  ten  per  cent.  Henry’s  law 
was  abrogated  in  1552,  however,  and  not  re-introduced 
till  1571.  In  1624  the  legal  rate  was  lowered  to  eight 
per  cent.,  and  in  1651  to  six  per  cent.  The  result  of 
these  reforms  was  that,  usury  being  recognised,  the 
usurers  were  able,  instead  of  charging  from  fifty  to  one 
or  two  hundred  per  cent.,  to  reduce  their  rates  to  some- 
thing like  fifteen  or  even  ten  per  cent. 

The  legal  rates  were  binding  in  all  public  transactions ; 
but  of  course  no  laws  could  bind  private  arrangements 
between  borrowers  and  lenders,  though  it  was  found  that 
private  contracts  did,  to  some  extent,  follow  the  changes 
initiated  by  the  government.  Therefore,  about  the  time 
when  Locke  began  to  think  over  these  subjects,  an  agita- 
tion was  started  among  merchants  and  others,  headed  by 
Sir  Josiah  Child,  in  favour  of  a further  reduction  of  the 
legal  rate.  “ The  lowness  of  the  rate  of  interest,”  said 
Child,  referring  to  the  arrangements  adopted  in  Holland, 
“ is  causa  causans  of  all  the  other  causes  of  the  riches  of 
that  people,”  and  he  accordingly  urged  that  the  English 
rate  should  be  lowered  to  four  per  cent.  Locke,  admitting, 
as  perhaps  he  was  justified  in  then  doing,  that  a legal 
rate  is  necessary  as  affording  a legal  status  to  money- 
lenders, and  useful  as  suggesting  a standard  for  their 
transactions,  set  himself  to  prove,  as  a first  though  not 


1191.  I 
j9St.  59.  J 


USURY  LAWS. 


191 


very  important  point,  that  six  per  cent,  was  a very  suit- 
able rate  for  the  law  to  prescribe,  and  that,  as  commercial 
affairs  then  stood,  legal  insistance  on  so  low  a rate  as 
four  per  cent,  would  have  very  disastrous  consequences  ; 
but  the  main  purpose  of  his  treatise  was  to  controvert 
Child’s  absurd  proposition  and  to  show  that  no  arbitrary 
fixing  of  any  rate  can  be  in  any  way  a cause  of  national 
wealth  and  prosperity. 

“ The  first  thing  to  be  considered,”  he  said,  “ is,  whether  the  price  of  the 
hire  of  money  can  be  regulated  by  law ; and  to  that  I think,  generally 
speaking,  one  may  say  ’tis  manifest  it  cannot.  For,  since  it  is  impossible 
to  make  a law  that  shall  hinder  a man  from  giving  away  his  money  or  estate 
to  whom  he  pleases,  it  will  be  impossible,  by  any  contrivance  of  law,  to 
hinder  men,  skilled  in  the  power  they  have  over  their  own  goods  and  the 
ways  of  conveying  them  to  others,  to  purchase  money  to  be  lent  them  at 
what  rate  soever  their  occasions  shall  make  it  necessary  for  them  to  have 
it.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  no  man  borrows  money,  or  pays  use,  out 
of  mere  pleasure.  ’Tis  the  want  of  money  drives  men  to  that  trouble  and 
charge  of  borrowing ; and,  proportionably  to  this  want,  so  will  every  one 
have  it,  whatever  price  it  cost  him ; wherein  the  skilful  will  always  so 
manage  it  as  to  avoid  the  prohibition  of  your  law  and  keep  out  of  its  penalty, 
do  what  you  can.”  1 

Some  of  the  consequences  to  be  looked  for  from  a reduction  of  the  legal 
rate  were  enumerated  by  Locke.  By  rendering  the  borrowing  and  lending 
of  money  more  difficult,  it  would  harass  trade,  and  would  press  most  hardly 
of  all  upon  “those  who  need  most  help  and  assistance,  widows  and  orphans, 
and  others  uninstructed  in  the  arts  and  managements  of  more  skilful  men.” 
It  would  give  undue  advantage  to  “ bankers  and  scriveners  and  other  such 
expert  brokers  who,  skilled  in  the  arts  of  putting  out  money  according  to 
the  true  and  natural  value,  will  infallibly  get  what  the  true  value  of  interest 
shall  be,  above  the  legal.”  More  than  all,  it  would  encourage  perjury.  “ I 
remember  I was  once  told,  in  a trading-town  beyond  sea,  of  a master  of  a 
vessel,  there  esteemed  a sober  and  fair  man,  who  yet  could  not  hold  saying, 
‘ God  forbid  that  a custom-house  oath  should  be  a sin.’”  If  the  legal  rate 


1 ‘ Some  Considerations  of  the  Lowering  of  Interest  and  Raising  the  Value 
of  Money’  (1692),  pp.  1,  2. 


192 


IN  AID  OF  THE  DEVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  Xt. 


of  interest  were  put  below  the  rate  that  could  he  obtained  in  trade,  usury 
would  not  take  that  level,  but  usurers  and  their  clients  would  systematically 
make  false  oaths  in  order  to  save  themselves  from  penalty.1 

Locke  said  a great  deal  that  was  very  much  to  the  purpose  on  these 
points,  and  a great  deal  more  to  show  how  idle  are  any  attempts  to  compel 
people  to  pay  either  a higher  or  a lower  rate  of  usury  than  the  state  of  the 
market  and  conditions  varying  in  each  individual  case  direct,  “ the  want  of 
money  being  that  alone  which  regulates  its  price.”  He  pointed  out  very 
clearly,  moreover,  how  useless  this  result  would  be,  even  if  it  were  attain- 
able. “ The  fall  or  rise  of  interest — making  neither  more  nor  less  land,  money, 
or  any  sort  of  commodity  in  England  than  there  was  before — immediately 
by  its  change  alters  not  at  all  the  value  of  money  in  reference  to  commodi- 
ties, because  the  measure  of  that  is  only  the  quantity  and  vent,  which  are 
not  immediately  changed  by  the  change  of  interest,  but  only  as  the  change 
of  interest  in  trade  conduces  to  the  bringing  in  or  carrying  out  money  or 
commodity,  and  so  in  time  varying  their  proportion  here  in  England  from 
what  it  was  before.”2 

Locke  drew  a careful  parallel  between  tbe  rent  of  land  and  the  interest 
of  money,  to  show  that  it  is,  to  say  the  least,  quite  as  inequitable  and, 
without  ruinous  consequences,  quite  as  impossible  to  establish  a fixed  rate 
of  interest  as  to  establish  a uniform  rent.  “ They,”  he  said,  “ who  consider 
things  beyond  their  names,  will  find  that  money,  as  well  as  all  other  com- 
modities, is  liable  to  the  same  changes  and  inequalities  : nay,  in  this  respect 
of  the  variety  of  its  value,  brought  in  by  time  in  the  succession  of  affairs, 
the  rate  of  money  is  less  capable  of  being  regulated  by  a law,  in  any  country, 
than  the  rent  of  land.  Because,  to  the  quick  changes  that  happen  in  trade 
this  too  must  be  added,  that  money  may  be  brought  in,  or  carried  out  of 
the  kingdom,  which  land  cannot,  and  so  that  be  truly  worth  six  or  eight 
per  cent,  this  year,  which  would  yield  but  four  the  last.  Money  has  a 
value  as  it  is  capable,  by  exchange,  to  procure  us  the  necessaries  or  con- 
veniences of  life,  and  in  this  it  has  the  nature  of  a commodity ; only  with 
this  difference,  that  it  serves  us  commonly  by  its  exchange,  never  almost 
by  its  consumption.  It  has  not  at  all  a more  standing,  settled  value  in 
exchange  with  any  other  thing  than  any  other  commodity  has,  but  a more 
known  one,  and  better  fixed  by  name,  number,  and  weight,  to  enable  us  to 


1 ‘ Some  Considerations  of  the  Lowering  of  Interest  and  Raising  the 
Value  of  Money’  (1692),  pp.  2—6. 

8 Ibid.,  p.  47. 


1691.  1 

m.  53  J 


THE  VALUE  OF  MONEY. 


193 


reckon  what  the  proportion  of  scarcity  and  vent  of  one  commodity  is  to 
another.  For,  supposing  that  half  an  ounce  of  silver  would  last  year 
exchange  for  one  bushel  of  wheat,  or  for  fifteen  pounds’  weight  of  lead,  if 
this  year  wheat  be  ten  times  scarcer  and  lead  in  the  same  quantity  to  its 
vent  as  it  was,  is  it  not  evident,  that  half  an  ounce  of  silver  will  still  exchange 
for  fifteen  pounds  of  lead,  though  it  will  exchange  but  for  one-tenth  of  a 
bushel  of  wheat,  and  he  that  has  use  of  lead  will  as  soon  take  fifteen  pounds’ 
weight  of  lead,  as  half  an  ounce  of  silver,  for  one-tenth  of  a bushel  of  wheat, 
and  no  more  ? So  that  if  you  say  that  money  now  is  nine-tenths  less  worth 
than  it  was  the  former  year,  you  must  say  so  of  lead  too,  and  all  other 
things  that  keep  the  same  proportion  to  money  they  were  in  before  ; only 
this  variation  is  first  observed  in  money,  because  that  is  the  measure  by 
which  people  reckon.”1 

Locke  did  a distinct  and  important  service  to  kis 
country  by  publishing  in  1692  bis  notes  of  1672,  as  they 
furnished  very  powerful  arguments  against  the  specious 
efforts  of  many  leading  merchants  of  the  day,  prompted 
mainly  by  a mistaken  view  of  their  own  interests,  to 
induce  the  embarrassed  government  of  William  the  Third 
to  make  a change  in  the  law  that,  it  was  represented, 
would  enable  it  to  borrow  money  for  the  public  service  on 
easier  terms.  Much  more  valuable,  however,  as  a con- 
tribution to  political  literature  was  the  second  and  shorter 
portion  of  the  treatise,  occupying  less  than  a third  of  the 
whole,  on  “raising  our  coin,”  or,  to  use  a more  modern 
and  less  misleading  term,  the  depreciation  of  the  currency. 

For  more  than  a century  before  this  time  the  state  of 
the  coinage  had  caused  serious  trouble  to  English  mer- 
chants, traders,  and  all  others  who  had  much  money  to 
handle,  as  well  as  to  all  English  statesmen  who  cared  for 
the  prosperity  of  their  country.  The  old-fashioned  silver 
money— silver  being  then  the  only  standard — was  coined 
in  a way  that  made  it  very  easy  for  it  to  be  tampered 

1 * Some  Considerations  of  the  Lowering  of  Interest  and  Raising  the 
Value  of  Money,’  pp.  50—52. 

Vol.  II. — 13 


194 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[CffAP.  IX 


with  ; the  coins  being  cut  by  hand-shears,  and  stamped 
with  hand-hammers,  and  being  thus  so  ill-shapen  to  begin 
with,  and  of  such  irregular  size,  that  they  could  be 
“ clipped  ” over  and  over  again  without  much  fear  of 
detection.  Money-clipping  became  a regular  and  very 
profitable  trade,  which  not  even  the  law  of  Elizabeth’s 
reign,  making  it  as  culpable  as  high  treason,  could  seriously 
diminish.  In  1663  a better  system  of  coinage  was  intro- 
duced, and  large  quantities  of  milled  money  were  issued 
every  year  from  the  mint,  only,  however,  to  be  exported 
or  to  be  melted  down  at  borne,  and  the  old  hammered 
money  continued  to  be  the  only  coin  in  general  use. 
Golden  guineas — themselves  depreciated  in  value — were 
eagerly  bought  up  for  ten  or  eleven  half-crowns  apiece, 
instead  of  at  their  nominal  worth  of  twenty-one  shillings, 
and  the  actual  value  of  half-a-crown  was  hardly  more 
than  eighteenpence.  Serious  loss  and  inconvenience 
were  thus  experienced  by  retail  purchasers  at  home  ; but 
as  the  clipped  money  was  current  in  England,  the  mischief 
to  them  was  not  quite  so  apparent  as  to  the  traders  with 
foreign  oountries.  In  the  foreign  markets,  of  course,  the 
coin  was  only  taken  at  its  true  value,  and  all  imported 
goods  were  proportionately  enhanced  in  price,  or  enhanced 
in  even  greater  proportion,  as  the  merchants  were  careful 
to  indemnify  themselves  not  only  for  their  losses  by 
exchange,  but  also  for  the  trouble  and  risk  to  which  they 
were  exposed. 

That  was  the  state  to  which  affairs  had  come  when 
William  the  Third  ascended  the  throne,  and,  though 
the  gradual  growth  of  the  evil  had  rendered  the  public 
strangely  apathetic  about  it,  or  reckless  under  despair  of 
obtaining  any  remedy,  a few  clear-headed  men  insisted 
upon  a remedy  being  found  without  delay. 


ifsa.]  EVILS  OF  A DEPRECIATED  CURRENCY.  195 

Foremost  among  these  was  Locke.  “ From  the  first 
year  of  his  return  into  England,”  said  Lady  Masham, 
“ when  nobody  else  appeared  sensible  of  this  matter  ” — 
that  is,  nobody  else  among  Lady  Masham’s  acquaintance, 
— “ he  was  very  much  troubled  concerning  it,  and  on 
talking  on  the  subject  of  our  public  affairs,  he  has  often 
said  to  me,  ‘ that  we  had  one  evil  which  nobody  com- 
plained of,  that  was  more  surely  ruinous  than  many  others 
with  which  we  were  daily  frightened,  and  that,  if  that 
unminded  leak  in  our  vessel  were  not  timely  looked  after, 
we  should  infallibly  sink,  though  all  the  rest  were  ever  so 
safe.’  And  when,  at  my  lodgings  in  London,  the  com- 
pany there,  finding  him  often  afflicted  about  a matter 
which  nobody  else  took  any  notice  of,  have  rallied  him 
upon  this  uneasiness  as  being  a visionary  trouble,  he  has 
more  than  once  replied,  ‘ We  might  laugh  at  it,  but  it 
would  not  be  long  before  we  should  want  money  to  send 
our  servants  to  market  with  for  bread  and  meat  ’ — which 
was  so  true,  five  or  six  years  after,  that  there  was  not  a 
family  in  England  who  did  not  find  this  a difficulty.”  1 

Locke  not  only  insisted  among  his  friends  upon  the 
serious  embarrassments  that  must  ensue  from  a perpetua- 
tion of  this  state  of  things  ; he  also  showed  the  need  of 
reform  in  the  letter  or  letters  that  furnished  the  substance 
of  the  second  part  of  his  ‘ Considerations  of  the  Conse- 
quences of  the  Lowering  of  Interest  and  Raising  the  Value 
of  Money.’  Here,  however,  he  was  most  anxious  to  pro- 
test against  the  very  mischievous  schemes  of  those  who 
favoured  a change  which,  instead  of  reforming,  would 
only  increase  the  evil.  Lady  Masham  erred  in  saying 
that  he  was  the  only  man  who  was  conscious  of  the 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12  Jan., 
1704-5. 


196 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


existence  of  this  evil.  There  were  many  who  clamoured, 
in  language  that  almost  drowned  his  sober  arguments,  for 
its  redress  ; and  he  felt  it  to  be  primarily  incumbent  upon 
him  to  expose  their  fallacies.  His  originality  was  chiefly 
shewn  in  his  successful  doing  of  this. 

Their  proposal  was,  not  that  the  old  depreciated  coin 
should  he  all  called  in,  and  be  no  longer  recognised  as 
legal  tender,  being  replaced  by  so  much  new  money,  of 
proper  value,  as  was  absolutely  necessary,  and  that  thus 
the  currency  of  the  country  should  be  brought  to  its 
proper  level,  but  that  the  new  money  should  be  “ raised  ” 
in  nominal  value,  so  as  to  force  a depreciated  currency 
upon  the  country  by  weight  of  law.  “ I hear  a talk  up  and 
down,”  Locke  said,  “of  1 raising  our  money  ’ as  a means  to 
retain  our  wealth,  and  keep  our  money  from  being  carried 
away.  I wish  those  that  use  the  phrase  of  ‘ raising  our 
money  ’ had  some  clear  notion  annexed  to  it,  and  that  then 
they  would  examine  whether,  that  being  true,  it  would  at 
all  serve  those  ends  for  which  it  is  proposed.  The  ‘ raising 
of  money  ’ signifies  one  of  these  two  things  : either  raising 
the  value  of  our  money  or  raising  the  denomination  of 
our  coin.  The  raising  of  the  value  of  money  or  anything 
else  is  nothing  but  the  making  a less  quantity  of  it 
exchange  for  any  other  thing  than  would  have  been 
taken  for  it  before.  For  example,  if  five  shillings  will 
exchange  for,  or,  as  we  call  it,  buy  a bushel  of  wheat,  if 
you  can  make  four  shillings  buy  another  bushel  of  the 
same  wheat,  it  is  plain  the  value  of  your  money  is  raised, 
in  respect  of  wheat,  one-fifth.  But  nothing  can  raise  or 
fall  the  value  of  your  money  but  the  proportion  of  its 
plenty  or  scarcity,  in  proportion  to  the  plenty,  scarcity,  or 
vent  of  any  other  commodity  with  which  you  compare  it, 
or  for  which  you  would  exchange  it.  And  thus  silver, 


^fk]  PROPOSED  EEFOEM  OF  THE  CUERENCT.  197 

which  makes  the  intrinsic  value  of  money  compared  with 
itself,  under  any  stamp  or  denomination  of  the  same  or 
different  countries,  cannot  be  raised.  For  an  ounce  of 
silver,  whether  in  pence,  groats,  or  crown-pieces,  stivers, 
or  ducatoons,  or  in  bullion,  is,  and  always  eternally  will 
he,  of  equal  value  to  any  other  ounce  of  silver,  under 
what  stamp  or  denomination  soever,  unless  it  can  be 
shown  that  any  stamp  can  add  any  new  or  better  qualities 
to  one  parcel  of  silver  which  another  parcel  of  silver 
wants.  All  then  that  can  be  done  is  only  to  alter  the 
denomination,  and  call  that  a crown  now  which  before 
by  the  law  was  but  a part  of  a crown.”  1 Locke  showed 
that  it  was  this  which,  under  specious  phrases,  the  advo- 
cates of  “raising  our  money  ” wanted  to  do,  and  that, 
in  plain  terms,  it  was  merely  a scheme  for  defrauding  of 
a shilling  the  recipient  of  every  crown-piece  at  its  nominal 
value.  The  fraud,  however,  he  pointed  out,  would  soon 
be  detected,  and  then  things  would  be  just  as  bad  as 
before,  if  not  worse.  “ For  ’tis  silver,  not  names,  that 
pays  debts  and  purchases  commodities.”  2 

This  view,  which  no  one  now  would  venture  to  contra- 
dict, was  insisted  upon  by  Locke  at  some  length  and  with 
remarkable  vigour  and  clearness  of  argument.  He  had 
to  wait  more  than  four  years  before  his  warnings  and 
expositions  were  heeded ; but  it  is  important  for  us  to 
bear  in  mind  that  almost  immediately  after  his  return 
to  England  he  not  only  insisted  upon  the  uselessness 
of  any  attempts  to  fix  the  rate  of  interest  by  law,  but 
also  was  among  the  first  to  urge  the  necessity  of  effecting 
a thorough  reform  of  the  currency,  and  apparently  the 
first,  and  certainly  the  boldest,  to  expose  the  worthlessness 
and  dishonesty  of  any  effort  to  reform  it  by  legalising  a 
1 ‘Some  Considerations,’  etc.,  pp.  133 — 135.  2 Ibid.,  p.  145. 


198 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  53. 


currency  of  greater  nominal  value  than  the  actual  value 
of  the  metal  employed  in  it.  His  arguments  worked 
slowly,  but,  as  we  shall  see,  they  had  an  excellent  effect 
on  public  opinion,  and  ultimately  on  the  action  of  the 
legislature.  “ I know  of  none,”  wrote  Lady  Masham,  after 
the  good  work  had  been  done,  and  after  his  death,  “ but 
think  that  that  was  a service  to  his  country  for  which 
he  merits  even  a public  monument  to  immortalise  the 
memory  thereof.  And  I am  farther  sure  that  what  loss 
our  nation  suffered  by  the  slowness  with  which  men  were 
made  sensible  what  must  be  the  remedy  to  our  diseases 
in  the  debasing  and  clipping  of  our  coin  might,  had  he 
been  hearkened  to,  have  had  a much  easier  cure.”  1 


Soon  after  his  return  to  England,  Locke  addressed  to 
the  king  a petition,  part  of  which  has  already  been 
quoted,  asking  for  redress  of  the  great  injury  and  greater 
insult  to  which  he  had  been  subjected  in  his  expulsion 
from  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  in  1684.  “ Your  petitioner,” 
he  said  in  the  last  sentence  of  this  document,  “humbly 
prays  that  your  majesty,  being  visitor  of  the  said  college, 
and  having  power  by  your  immediate  command  to  rectify 
what  you  find  amiss  there,  would,  out  of  your  great 
justice  and  goodness,  be  graciously  pleased  to  direct  the 
dean  and  chapter  of  the  said  college  to  restore  your  peti- 
tioner to  his  student’s  place,  together  with  all  things 
belonging  unto  it  which  he  formerly  enjoyed  in  the  said 
college.” 2 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Lady  Masbam  to  Le  Clerc, 
12  Jan.,  1704-5. 

2 Lord  King,  p.  176.  I do  not  find  the  original  of  this  petition  among 
the  State  Papers ; but  Locke’s  draft  of  it  is  extant. 


1 «OQ  “I 

At  56. j THE  CHRIST  CHURCH  STUDENTSHIP.  199 

The  petition  was  altogether  reasonable,  and  we  can  un- 
derstand how,  far  more  than  for  the  sake  of  any  material 
advantage  that  would  accrue  to  him,  Locke  “desired  to 
he  restored  to  his  right  in  Christ  Church,  as  an  acknow- 
ledgment that  he  had  been  wronged.”  That,  according 
to  Lady  Masham’s  report,  was  his  chief  reason  for 
making  this  petition ; and  she  added,  “ This  would  have 
been  granted  him,  but  that,  he  finding  it  would  give 
great  disturbance  to  the  society,  and  dispossess  the  per- 
son that  was  in  his  place,  Mr.  Locke  desisted  from  that 
pretension.”  1 Locke’s  magnanimity  in  so  desisting  must 
not  be  lost  sight  of. 

It  must  have  been  some  sacrifice  to  him,  moreover, 
though  perhaps  not  a very  great  one,  to  resign  all  claim 
to  the  pleasant  student’s  quarters  in  which,  during  so 
many  earlier  years,  he  had  lived  and  worked  as  a youth 
under  Cromwell  and  John  Owen,  as  a man  under  Charles 
the  Second  and  Dr.  Fell,  together  with  all  prospect,  now 
that  he  could  have  lived  in  them  more  freely  than  ever 
before,  of  settling  down  there  at  intervals,  if  not  perma- 
nently, and  of  propounding  thence  on  all  the  great  pro- 
blems of  human  life  views  which  the  foremost  men  in 
England  were  now  far  more  ready  to  receive  than  at  any 
earlier  time.  But  he  was  able  to  do  that  anywhere  under 
William  the  Third  ; and  perhaps  he  was  not  unwilling  to 
look  upon  London  as  henceforth,  instead  of  Oxford,  his 
head-quarters,  especially  during  the  time  in  which  he 
felt  that,  by  living  in  London,  he  could  take  a larger  share 
in  the  political  and  half-political  movements  that  he  had 
at  heart,  and  could  be  at  any  rate  not  less  active  in  com- 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 
Jan.,  1704-5. 


200 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chat.  XI. 


pleting  those  literary  undertakings  by  -which  he  hoped, 
not  idly,  to  do  even  better  service  to  the  world. 

“He  continued  for  more  than  two  years  after  the 
revolution  much  in  London,”  said  Lady  Masham  in 
her  sketch  of  his  life,  “ enjoying,  no  doubt,  all  the 
pleasure  there  that  any  one  can  find  who,  after  being 
long  in  a manner  banished  from  his  country,  unex- 
pectedly returning  to  it,  was  himself  more  generally 
esteemed  and  respected  than  ever  he  was  before.  If 
Mr.  Locke  had  any  dissatisfaction  in  this  time,  it  could 
only  be,  I suppose,  from  the  ill  success  now  and  then  of 
our  public  affairs ; for  his  private  circumstances  were  as 
happy,  I believe,  as  he  wished  them,  and  all  people  of 
worth  had  that  value  for  him  that  I think  I may  say  he 
might  have  what  friends  he  pleased.  But  of  all  the 
contentments  that  he  then  received  there  was  none 
greater  than  that  of  spending  one  day  every  week  with 
my  Lord  Pembroke  in  a conversation  undisturbed  by 
such  as  could  not  bear  a part  in  the  best  entertainment 
of  rational  minds,  free  discourse  concerning  useful  truths. 
His  old  enemy,  the  town  air,  did  indeed  sometimes  make 
war  upon  his  lungs ; but  the  kindness  of  the  now  Earl  of 
Peterborough  and  his  lady,  who  both  of  them  always 
expressed  much  esteem  and  friendship  for  Mr.  Locke, 
afforded  him  so  pleasing  an  accommodation  on  those 
occasions  at  a house  of  theirs  near  the  town,  advantaged 
with  a delightful  garden,  which  was  what  Mr.  Locke 
always  took  much  pleasure  in,  that  he  had  scarce  cause 
to  regret  the  necessity  he  was  under  of  a short  absence 
from  London.”  1 

We  unfortunately  have  only  the  slender  account  that 


1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12  Jan., 


1704-5. 


^56-53.]  RESIDENCE  AND  OCCUPATIONS  IN  LONDON.  201 

Lady  Masliam  gives  us  of  Locke’s  holidays  at  Parson’s 
Green,  the  suburban  residence  of  the  Earl  of  Peter- 
borough, at  this  time  the  Earl  of  Monmouth,  and  of  his 
gardening  exercises  there ; and  we  know  no  more  than 
she  tells  us  about  the  weekly  meetings  at  Lord  Pem- 
broke’s, unless  we  shall  he  justified  in  assuming  that  it 
-was  for  those  meetings  that  Locke  drew  up  the  rules  of 
the  society  of  Pacific  Christians  which  have  been  quoted. 
A good  deal  of  information  about  his  more  private  as  well 
as  his  more  public  occupations  during  the  first  two  years 
of  his  renewed  residence  in  England  may,  however,  be 
obtained  from  his  extant  correspondence,  and  from  other 
sources. 

Within  a month  or  two  after  his  return  to  England, 
he  settled  down  in  lodgings  in  the  house  of  a Mrs. 
Smithsby,  in  Dorset  court,  Channel  row,  Westminster.1 
Dorset  court  has  long  since  disappeared,  but  a part 
of  Channel  row  still  exists  as  Cannon  row,  and  Locke 
appears  to  have  chosen  this  residence  between  the 
Thames  and  Whitehall  in  order  to  be  near  the  centre  of 
political  business.  Thence  he  dated  the  dedication  of 
the  £ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  and  there 
he  appears  to  have  devoted  all  the  time  he  could  spare — 
complaining  to  Limborch  that  it  was  too  little — to  the 
completion  of  the  great  book  and  to  other  literary  work. 
There  he  was  within  easy  reach  of  Lord  Monmouth, 
Lord  Pembroke  and  many  other  friends,  among  whom 
must  not  be  forgotten  young  Lord  Ashley. 

Ashley,  losing  Locke’s  guidance  and  indirect  tutorship 
in  1683,  had  passed  three  or  four  years  at  Winchester 
school,  and  after  that  had  been  sent  abroad  for  a year  or 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  12  April 
1689. 


202 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


two  with  a Mr.  Denoune  for  his  companion.  While  on 
the  continent  he  spent  some  time  at  Rotterdam,  and 
it  is  probable,  though  nowhere  recorded,  that  he  there 
renewed  acquaintance  with  Locke.  A firm  friendship 
grew  up,  at  any  rate,  between  him  and  Benjamin  Furly, 
in  whose  house  Locke  had  continued  to  reside  for  the 
most  part  until  February,  1688-9. 1 He  soon  followed 
Locke  to  England,  and,  residing  generally  at  his  father’s 
house  in  Chelsea,  was  very  much  in  the  company  of  his 
“foster-father,”  as  he  liked  to  call  him  in  gratitude  for 
the  care  with  which  Locke  had  watched  over  his  body  as 
well  as  his  mind  in  the  years  of  his  infancy  and  child- 
hood. It  would  be  interesting,  were  this  a fit  occasion, 
to  trace  the  influence  of  Locke’s  teaching  upon  the  author 
of  ‘ Characteristics  of  Men,  Manners,  Opinions  and  Times.’ 
The  third  Lord  Shaftesbury’s  obligations  to  Locke  were 
thankfully  acknowledged,  and  his  acknowledgments  were 
not  at  all  excessive.  Perhaps,  moreover,  though  there 
must  have  been  other  and  more  powerful  inducements  to 
it,  Locke,  in  encouraging  the  early  development  of  his 
precocious  talents,  may  have  done  something  towards 
making  the  clever  boy  a conceited  youth  and  a man 
wdiose  own  powers  of  good  work,  and  yet  more  whose 
opportunities  of  influencing  others,  were  crippled  by  a 
great  deal  of  supercilious  dogmatism. 

Ashley  was  often  at  Mrs.  Smithsby’s  house  in  Dorset 

1 Perhaps  Ashley  did  not  visit  Rotterdam  till  after  that  date ; but  from  a 
letter  which  he  wrote  from  London  on  the  27th  of  June,  1691,  to  Furly,  it 
is  clear  that  their  acquaintance  was  then  of  long  standing.  In  the  postscript 
to  this  letter,  which  is  the  first  extant  of  a long  series  full  of  interesting 
political  and  biographical  matter,  Ashley  said,  “I  entreat  you,  when  you 
have  received  this,  to  acquaint  me  with  it  either  by  yourself  or  by  Mr. 
Popple  or  Mr.  Locke,  if  you  chance  to  write  to  either  of  them  in  any  little 
time.” — Shaftesbury  Payers,  series  v.,  no.  3. 


^t656-53.]  LORD  ASHLEY  AND  LORD  PEMBROKE.  208 

court,  chopping  logic  and  discussing  questions  in  meta- 
physics and  theology  with  Locke ; nor  was  he  the  only 
visitor  who  did  this.1  But  of  all  his  friends,  the  one  on 
whose  sympathy  in  questions  of  philosophy  and  theology 
Locke  could  most  rely  was  in  Holland. 

The  letters  that  passed  between  him  and  Limborch 
during  this  period,  however,  touch  chiefly,  though  not 
exclusively,  on  other  matters. 

In  the  beginning  of  June,  1689,  the  Earl  of  Pembroke 
went  to  Holland  as  special  envoy  to  the  states-general. 
Pembroke  did  not  mix  much  in  politics  during  the  first 
year  or  so  of  William’s  reign.  He  was  not  whig  enough 
to  enter  heartily  into  the  antecedents  of  the  Revolution, 
but,  it  having  been  effected,  he  honestly  and  quietly  did 
his  best  to  serve  the  new  king.  He  took  office  as  first 
lord  of  the  admiralty  in  the  spring  of  1690,  and  before  as 
well  as  after  that  date  he  acted  worthily  in  such  occa- 
sional services  as  this  mission  to  the  Hague.  Yet  Locke’s 
old  friendship  and  present  connection  with  him  were  phi- 
losophical rather  than  political,  and  it  was  as  a philoso- 
pher and  friend  of  philosophers  that  Locke  introduced 
him  to  Limborch  and  urged  Limborch  to  use  the  oppor- 
tunity now  offered  to  him  for  making  his  acquaintance. 
“ The  Earl  of  Pembroke,  our  king’s  extraordinary  ambas- 
sador to  your  country,”  Locke  wrote,  “ desires  to  see  and 
know  you,  and  I hope  you  will  be  able  to  meet  with  him. 
He  is  a great  scholar,  devoted  to  useful  studies,  and  a 
friend  to  all  learned  and  upright  men.  If  you  see  him, 
you  will  find  him  full  of  kindness.”  “ It  nearly  fell  out,” 

1 See  a long  and  very  characteristic  letter,  printed  by  Lord  King,  p.  183, 
from  Ashley  to  Locke,  dated  August,  1689 ; and  another,  yet  longer  and 
more  characteristic,  in  the  same  volume,  p.  197,  written  by  Locke  to 
Tyrrell  on  4th  August,  1690. 


204 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


he  added  in  a postscript,  which  tells  ns  all  we  know  on 
this  point,  “ that  I accompanied  him  in  his  mission;  but 
business  that  I could  not  escape  from  detains  me  here 
against  my  will.”  1 

Lord  Pembroke’s  four  months’  stay  in  Holland  led  to 
his  lasting  friendship,  not  only  with  Limborch,  but  also 
with  Le  Clerc.  Returning  in  September,  he  or  his  secre- 
tary brought  home  a parcel  that  Locke  bespoke  from 
Limborch,  and  the  details  of  this  commission  are  curious. 
“ If  this  letter  reaches  you  in  time,”  Locke  wrote,  “ please 
buy  for  me  a pound  or  half-a-pound  of  the  best  tea,  and 
send  it  to  Mr.  Furly’s  clerk  before  the  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke’s departure.  He  will  pay  you  for  it,  and  hand  it  to 
the  earl’s  secretary,  Mr.  Barker.  I want  the  best  tea,  even 
if  it  costs  forty  florins  ” — about  a hundred  and  eighty 
shillings  at  the  present  value  of  money — “ a pound  ; only 
you  must  be  quick,  or  we  shall  lose  this  opportunity,  and 
I doubt  whether  we  shall  have  another.  As  you  praise 
it  so  much,  I know  you  are  a most  excellent  buyer  of  this 
herb.  You  see  how  freely  I make  use  of  you.  It  would 
delight  me  to  do  as  much  for  you,  and  I am  sure  you  do 
not  doubt  my  will : only  try  me.  I should  also  like  you 
to  send  me,  along  with  this  pound  of  tea,  the  ‘Acta 
Eruditorum’  for  1689,  and  two  copies  of  the  same  publi- 
cation for  1688.” 2 “I  have  received  the  tea  and  the 
books  which  you  so  kindly  procured  and  sent  for  me,” 
Locke  wrote  in  his  next  letter,  “ and  I thank  you  with  all 
my  heart.” 3 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants’  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  1 June,  1689. 

2 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Limborch,  10  Sept.,  1689. 

3 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Limborch,  3 Dec.  [1689].  Tea,  though  imported  in 
small  quantities  by  the  Dutch  as  early  as  1610,  had  only  lately  come  to  be 
known  in  England,  and  was  at  that  time  a costly  luxury,  and  still  regarded 
as  an  agreeable  medicine  rather  than  an  article  of  diet. 


^56-58.]  COEEESPONDENCE  WITH  LIMBOECH. 


205 


In  Amsterdam  and,  to  a less  extent,  in  the  other  prin- 
cipal towns  in  Holland,  a great  number  of  learned  books 
were  at  that  time  published.  Copies  of  many  and  infor- 
mation about  the  progress  of  others  were  often  sent  to 
Locke  by  Limboroh,  and  also,  it  would  seem,  by  Le  Clerc, 
and  Locke  in  return  sent  to  his  friends  in  Amsterdam 
news  of  every  important  work  on  theology,  philosophy, 
and  science  that  appeared  in  England.  In  nearly  every 
one  of  his  letters  to  Limborch  he  included  some  friendly 
message  to  Le  Clerc,  and  it  is  evident  that  with  him  also 
he  kept  up  a frequent  correspondence,  though,  as  Le  Clerc 
was  not  such  a careful  storer  up  of  his  friend’s  letters  as 
Limborch,  hardly  any  of  this  correspondence  has  been 
preserved. 

Locke  wrote  one,  and  apparently  only  one,  angry  letter 
to  Limborch.  It  will  be  remembered  that  his  ‘ Letter 
concerning  Toleration,’  both  in  its  original  Latin  form 
and  in  its  translations  into  English  and  other  languages, 
had  been  published  anonymously ; and  Locke  had  been 
evidently  very  anxious  that  his  authorship  of  it  should 
not  be  known.  Limborch’s  letting  out  of  this  secret  was 
the  occasion  of  the  brief  quarrel.  “ Our  friend  Guenellon 
came  to  me  the  other  day,”  Limborch  wrote  on  the  15th 
of  April,  1690,  “ and  told  me  he  had  heard  from  Mr. 
Daranda  that  his  brother  in  London1  had  told  him  a 
certain  friend  of  mine  was  the  author  of  the  treatise,  and 
was  very  anxious  to  know  who  this  was.  On  my  express- 
ing surprise,  he  pressed  me  in  the  first  instance  to  say 
whether  it  was  I who  had  written  it.  This  I denied. 

1 Paul  Daranda  was  an  eminent  merchant  in  London,  apparently  a friend 
of  Locke’s,  and  connected  with  William  Paterson  in  the  establishment  of  the 
bank  of  England.- — ‘ The  Writings  of  William  Paterson,’  edited  by  Saxe 
Bannister  (1859),  vol.  ii.,  p.  lxxvi. 


206 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap  XI. 


Then  he  insisted  on  my  telling  him  whether  it  had  really 
been  written  by  a friend  of  mine.  I tried  all  I could  to 
prevaricate  ; but  I could  not  tell  a direct  lie  to  such  a 
very  dear  friend.  In  this  way  he  discovered  that  no  one 
in  our  country  except  myself  knew  who  was  the  author 
or  had  the  least  suspicion  on  the  subject.  As  I said,  I 
could  not  tell  a lie  to  a man  who,  if  he  afterwards  found 
out  the  truth,  might  very  properly  he  angry  with  me  for 
deceiving  him  about  a person  who  was  also  such  a very 
dear  friend  of  his.  So  the  secret  came  out  in  the  presence 
of  his  father-in-law  as  well  as  Guenellon  himself,  though 
I bound  them  by  the  most  solemn  promises  to  divulge  it 
to  nobody  else.  What  hitherto  was  known  only  to  one 
person,  however,  is  now  known  to  three,  and  there  is 
much  greater  risk  than  there  was  before  of  its  being  made 
known  to  others.  I shall  do  all  I can  to  prevent  the 
secret  from  going  any  further,  hut  I cannot  answer  for 
the  others.  Yet,  is  there  any  good  in  trying  to  keep  the 
authorship  secret?  Your  name  would  attract  many  fresh 
readers  and  would  give  authority  to  the  tract.  These 
two  friends  of  ours,  as  soon  as  they  heard  you  were  the 
author,  showed  themselves  extremely  anxious  to  read  it 
at  once,  and  I gave  each  of  them  a copy.  But  enough 
about  this.”1 

Locke  did  not  think  it  enough.  “ I have  received 
your  letter,”  he  wrote  back,  “and  am  amazed  at  your 
account  of  what  has  passed  between  you  and  Dr. 
Guenellon.  I must  confess  it  surprises  me  that  these 
inquisitive  men  should  have  found  it  so  easy  to  fish  out 
of  you2  a secret  that  I hoped  was  perfectly  safe  in  your 

1 Lord  King  (2nd  edition,  1830),  vol.  ii. , p.  306  ; Limborch  to  Locke, 
[15 — ] 25  April,  1690.  In  translating  Limborch’s  long  and  rather  shuffling 
story,  I have  somewhat  condensed  it. 

2 “ Ex  te  expiscari.”  ! 


]W). 
iEt.  57. J 


A QUARREL  WITH  LIMBORCH. 


207 


keeping.  For  rumours  are  afloat  about  this  pamphlet 
which,  though  they  did  not  trouble  me  at  all  when  its 
authorship  was  unknown,  now  threaten  almost  to  ruin 
me.  What  answer  I should  have  made  to  Guenellon 
when  he  was  making  those  inquiries,  you  can  see  from 
my  last  letter  to  him.  But  now  you  have  made  known 
the  authorship  ; and  all  I have  to  say  is  that,  if  you  had 
confided  such  a secret  to  me,  I should  never  have  divulged 
it  to  any  friend  or  acquaintance,  or  any  human  being,  on 
any  condition.  You  do  not  know  what  trouble  you  have 
brought  on  me.  All  that  now  remains  for  you  to  do  is  to 
try  all  you  can  to  induce  these  two  others  to  join  you  in 
keeping  the  secret  which  you  could  not  keep  by  yourself. 
I have  little  hope  of  that,  however ; for  doubtless  before 
now  Dr.  Guenellon,  who  was  not  so  exceedingly  curious 
merely  for  his  own  amusement,  but  to  oblige  Daranda, 
has  told  it  to  Daranda.  If  you  find  that  to  be  the  case, 
you  need  take  no  further  trouble  about  it.  The  mischief 
has  been  done  and  there  is  no  remedy.”  1 

Limborch  cannot  be  excused  for  his  rash  breach  of 
faith ; but  it  is  difficult  to  understand  why  Locke  should 
have  expected  such  disastrous  consequences  from  the 
divulging  of  his  name  as  author  of  the  ‘Letter  concerning 
Toleration.’  The  fact,  however,  was  not  made  public  at 
the  time,  nor  indeed  until  after  Locke  had  himself  in  his 
will  explicitly  acknowledged  that  he  had  written  both 
this  letter  and  those  that  followed  it  on  the  same  subject. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a temporary  coolness  between 
him  and  Limborch  in  consequence  of  this  affair,  and  a 
cessation  of  correspondence  between  them  during  the 
next  few  months ; but  it  had  quite  passed  off  before 
November,  when,  alluding  to  at  least  one  other  letter 
1 Lord  King  (2nd  ed.),  vol.  ii.,  p.  310 ; Locke  to  Limborch,  22  April,  1690. 


208 


IN  AID  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


[Chap.  XI. 


written  in  the  interval,  but  not  preserved,  Locke  addressed 
his  friend  in  the  old  tone  of  tender  affection. 

“ I have  to-day  received  yours  of  the  23rd  of  last 
month,”  he  then  wrote,  “ in  which  you  blame  me  for  my 
silence — not  without  reason,  though  I am  innocent.  I 
answered  your  very  kind  letter  as  soon  as  I received  it, 
and  at  great  length,  for  our  ecclesiastics  gave  me  plenty 
of  matter  to  write  about,  the  fury  of  your  synod  concern- 
ing ecclesiastical  affairs  being  by  no  means  equal  to  the 
orthodox  zeal  of  our  convocation.  But  that  letter,  I now 
find,  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  the  packet-boat  having 
been  almost  captured  by  the  French,  and  all  the  letters 
having  been  thrown  overboard  to  prevent  their  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  mine  among  the  rest.  I 
expressed  my  fears  on  this  point  the  other  day  in  writing 
to  Guenellon  ; now  I am  sure  of  it.  I am  very  sorry  it 
should  have  thus  fallen  out,  for,  though  your  affection 
for  me  is  now  again  made  certain,  I do  not  like  to  seem 
tardy  in  acknowledging  my  obligations  to  you.  I have 
sent  you  a copy  of  the  ‘ Second  Letter  concerning 
Toleration,’  which  Mr.  Le  Clerc  commends.  It  will  be 
fortunate  for  our  country  if  we  can  make  in  the  English 
tongue  as  good  a defence  of  religious  liberty  as  you  offer 
to  your  countrymen  in  Latin.  But  the  proved  excellence 
of  your  cause  renders  defence  less  difficult  in  your  case.”1 

Among  other  matters  referred  to  in  this  letter  was  the 
death  of  Yeen’s  wife,  of  whom  Locke  must  have  seen 
much  during  the  many  months  in  which  he  found  a 
hiding-place  in  the  house  of  the  Amsterdam  doctor.  “ I 
know  well  enough  that  our  friend’s  loss  of  a wife  who  was 
so  excellent  a companion  of  his  youth,  so  great  a solace 
in  his  old  age,  must  have  caused  you  very  great  sorrow, 
1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  7 Nov.,  1690. 


1690.  | 
.Et.  57. J 


FRIENDS  IN  HOLLAND. 


209 


and  I doubt  whether  anything  can  lighten  the  force  of 
this  affliction  ; nor  is  my  pain  less.  I loved  them  both. 
I mourn  for  her  who  is  gone  ; I revere  him  who  remains ; 
and  I can  never  forget  the  many  kindnesses  I have 
received  from  them  both.  I have  been  writing  to  Yeen 
this  evening.”1 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  7 Nov.,  1690. 
In  Amsterdam  Locke  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Dr.  Matthew  Slade, 
giandson  of  a Matthew  Slade  who  soon  after  1600  had  left  Oxford  and 
become  rector  of  the  academy  in  that  town.  The  younger  Slade,  whose 
mother  was  a Dutchwoman,  visited  England  in  the  autumn  of  1689,  and 
died  suddenly  of  apoplexy  in  December,  at  Shotover,  near  to  Tyrrell’s  resi- 
dence. In  several  of  his  letters  to  Limborch  Locke  referred  to  his  inter- 
course with  Slade,  and  described  Tyrrell’s  share  in  burying  him  and  his  own 
participation  in  the  business.  I have  not  thought  it  necessary,  however,  to 
set  forth  these  particulars,  or  the  many  other  references  in  this  correspond- 
ence to  matters  not  having  much  connection  with  Locke’s  biography. 

Vol.  II. — 14 


CHAPTER  XII. 


In  Retirement  : Work  as  Author. 

[1691—1696.] 

AMAEIS  CUD  WORTH,  with  whom  Locke  had 


made  acquaintance  about  two  years  before  he  went 
to  Holland,  became  the  second  wife  of  Sir  Francis 
Masham  in  1685.  Her  husband  was  a grandson  of  the 
Sir  William  Masham  who  took  a conspicuous  part  in  the 
rebellion  against  Charles  the  First  and  served  as  a member 
in  Oliver  Cromwell’s  council.  Sir  Francis,  born  in  1645, 
had  married  young,  and  was  the  father  of  eight  sons  and 
a daughter  before  his  first  wife  died  in  1681  ; but  of 
these  children  only  the  daughter  Esther,  born  in  1675, 
appears  to  have  had  much  to  do  with  Locke,  and  only 
the  youngest  son,  Samuel,  born  in  1680,  and  destined  to 
become  the  first  Lord  Masham,  and  husband  of  Abigail 
Hill,  Queen  Anne’s  favourite,  acquired  any  sort  of 
notoriety. 

As  Sir  Francis  Masham’s  second  wife  was  born  on  the 
18th  of  January,  1658-9,  she  was  thirty  years  old  when 
Locke  returned  to  England.  We  have  seen  how  highly 
Locke  esteemed  her  seven  years  before.  Some  letters 
had  passed  between  them  in  the  interval,  though  none 
of  these,  unfortunately,  have  been  preserved  ; nor  have 
we  any  but  very  meagre  details  of  their  relations  during 


1691.  1 
-JEt.  68  .J 


FEOM  LONDON  TO  OATES. 


211 


the  first  two  years  of  his  residence  in  London.  But  that 
those  relations  were  cordial  is  evident. 

Locke,  as  we  know,  had  found  by  old  experience  that 
he  could  not  pass  the  winter-time  in  London  without 
great  damage  to  his  weak  lungs.  The  urgency  of  political 
affairs,  in  the  guidance  of  which  he  then  hoped  and  sought 
to  take  a very  prominent  part,  as  well  as  other  pressing 
occupations  in  connection  with  the  printing  of  the  ‘ Essay 
concerning  Human  Understanding’  and  his  other  books, 
had  induced  him  to  run  all  risks  and  remain  in  the 
metropolis  throughout  the  first  season  of  cold  weather, 
with  the  exception,  probably,  of  short  visits  to  Lord 
Monmouth’s  house  at  Parson’s  Green  and  other  places 
within  an  easy  ride  from  Westminster,  and  he  continued 
to  regard  the  house  in  Dorset  court  as  his  home  until 
January  or  February,  1690-1.  “ Soon  after,”  however, 

said  Lady  Masham,  “ he  was  forced  to  think  of  a farther 
remove  from  London,  and  of  quitting  it  for  the  entire 
winter  at  least.”  1 His  health  was  the  immediate  cause 
of  this  change  of  plan ; but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he 
was  induced  to  give  way  to  personal  considerations  by 
dissatisfaction  at  the  course  of  politics  under  the  direction 
of  the  Marquis  of  Carmarthen,  and  a feeling  that,  if  he 
was  to  render  any  further  service  to  the  cause  of  religious 
and  political  liberty,  as  to  the  results  of  which  from  the 
Eevolution  he  had  been  over  sanguine,  the  service  could 
be  done  quite  as  well  at  some  distance  from  London, 
with  only  such  occasional  visits  to  it  as  were  required  by 
his  easy  duties  as  a commissioner  of  appeals  and  by  other 
occupations.  So  he  looked  for  a new  home,  and  he  found 
one  without  difficulty. 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc, 
12  Jan.,  1704-5. 


212 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  Xlt. 


“ He  had  during  the  years  ’89,  ’90  and  ’91,”  said  Lady 
Mashatn,  writing  from  Oates,  in  Essex,  “ by  some  con- 
siderably long  visits  with  which  he  had  obliged  Sir  Francis 
and  me,  made  trial  of  the  air  of  this  place,  which  is 
something  above  twenty  miles  from  London,  and  he 
thought  that  none  would  be  so  suitable  to  him.  His  com- 
pany could  not  but  be  very  desirable  to  us,  and  he  had 
all  the  assurances  we  could  give  him  of  being  always 
welcome  here  ; but,  to  make  him  easy  in  living  with  us, 
it  was  necessary  he  should  do  so  on  his  own  terms,  which 
Sir  Francis  at  last  consenting  to,  Mr.  Locke  then  believed 
himself  at  home  with  us,  and  resolved,  if  it  pleased  God, 
here  to  end  his  days — as  he  did.”  1 

Locke  was  very  ill  in  September,  1690,  as  we  hear  in- 
cidentally,2 and  though  we  do  not  meet  him  at  Oates 
until  the  following  January,3  he  appears  to  have  stayed 
there  for  several  months  after  that,  and  during  this  stay 
to  have  resolved  that  he  would  pay  no  more  visits  to  his 
host  and  hostess,  hut  take  up  his  abode  with  them,  con- 
tributing his  share  towards  the  household  expenses,  and 
feeling  that  in  his  own  apartments  he  could  do  as  he 
liked,  without  any  other  obligation  than  that  strongest 
one  of  all  which  subsists  in  the  bond  of  mutual  affection 
and  esteem  between  friends  who  have  tried  and  proved 
one  another’s  worth. 

“ I have  already  told  you,”  he  wrote  from  Oates  to 
Limborch  in  March,  “ that  I was  acquainted  with  the 
daughter  of  Dr.  Cudworth,  and  have  spoken  to  you  of  her 
wonderful  qualities.  She  is  married  to  a baronet  who 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 
Jan.,  1704-5. 

2 Lord  King,  p.  216;  Newton  to  Locke,  28  Sept.,  1690. 

s Ibid.,  p.  216;  Newton  to  Locke,  7 Feb.,  1690-1. 


ICfll.  1 
Mt.  58.  J 


LADY  MASHAM. 


213 


represents  this  county  in  the  present  parliament.  They 
have  received  me  as  a guest  in  their  house,  and  provided 
for  me  an  asylum  that  is  very  favourable  to  my  health. 
The  lady  herself  is  so  well  versed  in  theological  and 
philosophical  studies,  and  of  such  an  original  mind,  that 
you  will  not  find  many  men  to  whom  she  is  not  superior 
in  wealth  of  knowdedge  and  ability  to  profit  by  it.  Her 
judgment  is  excellent,  and  I know  few  who  can  bring 
such  clearness  of  thought  to  bear  upon  the  most  abstruse 
subjects,  or  such  capacity  for  searching  through  and  solving 
the  difficulties  of  questions  beyond  the  range,  I do  not 
say  of  most  women,  but  even  of  most  learned  men.  From 
reading,  to  which  she  once  devoted  herself  with  much 
assiduity,  she  is  now  to  a great  extent  debarred  by  the 
weakness  of  her  eyes,  but  this  defect  is  abundantly  sup- 
plied by  the  keenness  of  her  intellect.  About  your  name 
and  your  merits  she  was  well  informed  from  the  corre- 
spondence you  formerly  had  with  her  father ; and,  when  she 
found  that  I had  been  intimately  acquainted  with  you 
in  Amsterdam,  she  made  all  sorts  of  inquiries  about  you 
and  all  your  affairs,  and  derived  as  much  pleasure  from 
our  friendship  as  if  she  knew  you  herself.  When  your 
letter  reached  me  to-day  while  we  were  at  dinner,  she 
asked  so  many  fresh  questions  and  was  so  anxious  to 
know  all  I could  tell  her  about  you,  that  I read  her  as 
much  of  it  as  I felt  myself  at  liberty  to  do.  I hope  you 
will  not  object  to  this.”  1 

From  the  spring  of  1691,  then,  we  must  date  the  com- 
mencement of  Locke’s  residence  at  Oates.  He  kept  on 
his  chambers  in  Westminster  until  he  removed  to  fresh 
quarters  in  Lincoln’s  Inn  Fields,  and  continued  to  be 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborcli,  13  March,, 
1690-1. 


214 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[CnAp.  XIL 


often  in  London,  especially  during  the  summer  time ; 
and,  after  about  five  years  of  comparative  retirement, 
public  business  caused  him,  during  some  four  years,  to 
be  in  the  metropolis  as  often  as  be  could  and  for 
much  longer  periods.  But  henceforward  we  shall  find 
that  the  Essex  country  bouse  was  bis  home,  and  that 
its  mistress  was  bis  devoted  companion  until  the  time 
came  for  her  to  tend  him  through  bis  last  painful  iliness 
with  more  than  a daughter’s  care,  and  to  find  herself 
more  than  ever  an  orphan  as  she  turned  away  from  bis 
grave. 

Her  own  father  bad  died,  at  the  age  of  seventy-one,  on 
the  26th  of  June,  1688,  and  from  that  time,  it  would 
seem,  her  widowed  mother  resided  with  her  at  Oates 
until  she  also  died  in  1695.  When  Locke,  at  the  age 
of  fifty-nine,  became  a member  of  the  family,  its  other 
members  were — besides  Sir  Francis  Masham,  apparently 
an  easy-going  good-hearted  country  gentleman  of  whom 
we  know  little,  now  forty- six  years  old,  and  bis  young 
wife  of  thirty-two — Mrs.  Cudworth,  whose  age  was  sixty- 
seven,  Lady  Masham’s  little  son  Francis,  born  in  June, 
1686,  and  now  in  his  fifth  year,  and  her  step-daughter 
Esther,  now  about  sixteen.  Sir  Francis  Masham’s  other 
surviving  children  appear  to  have  been  at  school,  or  to 
have  generally  lived  away  from  home  ; at  any  rate  we 
hear  very  little  about  them,  but  Esther  Masham  nas 
nearly  as  important  a place  in  Locke’s  biography  as 
Lady  Masham  herself.  Old  Mrs.  Masham,  Sir  Francis’s 
mother,  a very  religious  woman  and  a staunch  noncon- 
formist, lived  at  Matching  Hall,  on  an  estate  adjoining 
that  of  Oates. 

The  old  manor  house  of  Oates,  pulled  down  near  the 
end  of  the  last  century,  was  in  the  parish  of  High  Laver, 


THE  FAMILY  AT  OATES. 


215 


1691.  1 
Mi.  58.  J 

though  more  than  a mile  distant  from  the  very  small 
hamlet,  consisting  of  little  more  than  a church  and  one 
large  house,  which  bears  that  name,  and  was  pleasantly 
situated  in  a pleasant  region  of  wooded  country  and  green 
lanes,  about  midway  between  the  post-towns  of  Harlow 
and  Chipping  Ongar,  and  four  or  five  miles  distant  from 
each.  Here,  within  doors  and  without,  Locke  was  able 
to  find  all  the  happiness  and  enjoyment  that  were  allowed 
by  his  broken  health  and  the  many  occupations  forced 
upon  him  by  the  requirements  of  his  country  and  his 
own  desire  to  instruct  the  world  on  the  topics  that  had 
claimed  his  attention  during  more  than  thirty  years  before 
he  became  an  author. 


Although  during  the  five  years  following  the  spring 
of  1691  Locke  resided  almost  constantly  at  Oates,  and 
withdrew  himself  for  the  most  part  from  the  minor 
details  of  politics,  his  time  of  retirement  was  not  a time 
of  idleness.  Although,  moreover,  an  important  influence 
was  exerted  upon  him  by  his  almost  constant  intercourse 
with  Lady  Masham,  the  main  current  of  his  life  as  a 
thinker  and  author  was  not  greatly  altered  by  his  change 
of  residence.  His  health  being  better,  indeed,  we  shall 
find  that  he  was  almost  busier  than  ever,  and  his  corre- 
spondence with  his  friends  shows  that  he  took  as  much 
interest  as  formerly  in  all  their  concerns,  and  was  as 
anxious  to  help  them  and  be  helped  by  them  in  all  good 
work. 

With  one  famous  friend  he  must  have  been  acquainted 
for  many  years  past,  though  we  only  now  begin  to  know 
much  about  their  relations  with  one  another.  Isaac 
Newton,  not  Sir  Isaac  Newton  until  1705,  was  his  junior 


216 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chai>.  xii. 


by  ten  years,  and  being  in  early  life  a disciple  of  Cud- 
worth,  More  and  the  other  Cambridge  latitudinarians, 
though,  like  Locke,  he  soon  went  far  beyond  his  teachers 
— being  also  a friend  of  Robert  Boyle’s,  and  often  coming 
to  London  to  attend  the  meetings  of  the  Royal  Society, 
of  which  he  became  a member  in  1672 — we  may  be  quite 
certain  that  he  met  Locke  often  during  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Second.  He  published  his  ‘ Principia  ’ in 
1687, 1 and  two  years  after  that,  while  he  was  in  London 
as  representative  of  his  university  in  the  convention 
parliament,  and  must  have  seen  Locke  yet  oftener  in 
political  as  well  as  in  other  circles,  he  gave  to  his  friend 
a “ demonstration  that  the  planets,  by  their  gravity 
towards  the  sun,  may  move  in  ellipses.”2  This  fact  is 
chiefly  interesting  to  us  as  furnishing  the  first  positive 
evidence  that  we  have  of  their  intimacy,  the  document 

1 “ The  celebrated  Locke,  who  was  incapable  of  understanding  the 
* Principia  ’ from  his  want  of  geometrical  knowledge,  inquired  of  Huyghens 
if  all  the  mathematical  propositions  in  that  work  were  trite.  When  he  was 
assured  that  he  might  depend  upon  their  certainty,  he  took  them  for 
granted,  and  carefully  examined  the  reasonings  and  corollaries  deduced 
from  them.  In  this  manner  he  acquired  a knowledge  of  the  physical 
truths  in  the  ‘ Principia,’  and  became  a firm  believer  in  the  discoveries 
which  it  contained.  In  the  same  manner  he  studied  the  treatise  on 
‘ Optics,’  and  made  himself  master  of  every  part  of  it  which  was  not  mathe- 
matical.” (Brewster,  ‘ Memoirs  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,’  1855,  vol.  i.,  p.  339, 
quoting  from  Desagulier’s  ‘ Course  of  Experimental  Philosophy,’  1734, 
vol.  i.,  p.  8.)  Locke  had  found  out  the  genius  of  Newton  before  he  pub- 
lished his  ‘Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.’  “In  an  age  that 
produces  such  master-builders  as  the  great  Huyghens  and  the  incomparable 
Mr.  Newton,”  he  said  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Reader,  written  not  later  than  the 
autumn  of  1689,  “it  is  enough  to  be  employed  as  an  under-labourer  in 
clearing  the  ground  a little,  and  removing  some  of  the  rubbish  that  lies  in 
the  way  to  knowledge.” 

2 Lord  King,  pp.  209 — 214,  where  this  document  is  printed  from  Locke’s 
papers. 


1C00-1.  1 

Mt.  68.  J 


FEIENDSHIP  WITH  NEWTON. 


217 


being  endorsed  by  Locke,  “Mr.  Newton,  March,  1689.” 
Soon  after  that  date  the  evidence  is  frequent. 

Newton  was  anxious  to  obtain  some  more  lucrative 
appointment  than  his  Cambridge  professorship,  and  it  is 
clear  that  Locke  used  all  the  influence  he  had  to  help 
him,  though  for  some  time  without  success.  “I  am 
extremely  obliged  to  my  Lord  and  Lady  Monmouth,” 
Newton  wrote  in  the  autumn  of  1690,  “for  their  kind 
remembrance  of  me,  and,  whether  their  design  succeed 
or  not,  must  ever  think  myself  obliged  to  be  their  humble 
servant.”1  “If  the  scheme  you  have  laid  of  managing 
the  controller’s  place  of  the  mint  will  not  give  you  the 
trouble  of  too  large  a letter,”  he  wrote  some  months 
later,  “ you  will  oblige  me  by  it.  I thank  you  heartily 
for  your  being  so  mindful  of  me  and  ready  to  assist  me 
with  your  interest.” 2 

The  great  mathematician  had  to  wait  four  years  before 
he  became  warden  of  the  mint,  and  eight  years  before 
he  became  its  master,  the  office  on  which  he  had  set  his 
heart ; and  he  was  much  annoyed  that  Locke  could  not 
succeed  in  helping  him  sooner,  and  blamed,  if  not  Locke 
himself,  at  any  rate  Locke’s  friends,  because  they  were  out 
of  office,  and  thus  could  not  serve  him.  Among  these 
friends  were  the  Earl  of  Monmouth,  who  had  been  de- 
prived of  his  lordship  of  the  treasury  in  the  spring  of 
1690,  and  Charles  Montagu,  afterwards  Earl  of  Halifax, 
the  ablest  of  the  younger  politicians,  though  he  only 
entered  office,  as  a commissioner  of  the  treasury,  in 
March,  1692.  “Being  convinced  that  Mr.  Montagu, 
upon  an  old  grudge  which  I thought  had  been  worn  out, 
is  false  to  me,  I have  done  with  him,”  Newton  wrote  in 

1 Lord  King,  p.  217  ; Newton  to  Locke,  28  Sept.,  1690. 

* Ibid. , p.  216  ; Newton  to  Locke,  30  June,  1691. 


218  IN  RETIREMENT:  WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap,  xil 

the  January  before  that,  in  a sentence  which  is  not  quite 
intelligible,  “ and  intend  to  sit  still,  unless  my  Lord 
Monmouth  be  still  my  friend  5,1  “I  am  very  glad  my 
Lord  Monmouth  is  still  my  friend,”  he  said  in  another 
letter,  three  weeks  later,  “but  intend  not  to  give  his 
lordship  and  you  any  further  trouble.  My  inclinations 
are  to  sit  still.”  2 

Locke  did  take  further  trouble,  and  ultimately  obtained 
for  his  friend  the  post  he  desired.  In  the  meanwhile  he 
sought  to  assist  him  in  other  ways.  In  the  previous 
December  he  had  offered  to  use  any  influence  he  pos- 
sessed towards  procuring  for  Newton  the  mastership  of 
Charterhouse  school.  “ I thank  you  for  putting  me  in 
mind  of  Charterhouse,”  Newton  wrote  back;  “but  I see 
nothing  in  it  worth  making  a bustle  for.  Besides  a coach, 
which  I consider  not,  it  is  but  200k  per  annum,  with  a 
confinement  to  the  London  air,  and  to  such  a way  of 
living  as  I am  not  in  love  with.  Neither  do  I think  it 
advisable  to  enter  into  such  a competition  as  that  would 
be  for  a better  place.”3 

Those  illustrations  of  the  philosopher’s  care  for  the 
mathematician’s  material  advancement  are  interesting ; 
but  it  is  more  interesting  to  trace  their  connection  in 
other  ways. 

1 Lord  King,  p.  219 ; Newton  to  Locke,  26  Jan.,  1691-2. 

; 2 Ibid.,  p.  219 ; Newton  to  Locke,  16  Feb.,  1691-2.  “ We  do  not  envy 

the  reader  who  peruses  these  simple  details  without  a blush  of  shame  for 
his  country,”  said  Sir  David  Brewster,  in  his  ‘ Memoirs  of  Newton  ’ 
(vol.  ii. , p.  118),  after  quoting  this  correspondence.  “ That  Locke  and 
Lord  Monmouth  and  Charles  Montagu  could  not  obtain  an  appointment 
for  the  author  of  the  ‘ Principia  ’ will  hardly  be  believed  in  any  country 
but  our  own.”  It  is  a pity  Sir  David  did  not  inquire  into  the  political 
standing  of  Locke  and  his  friends  at  this  time  before  sneering  at  them. 

3 Lord  King,  p.  222 ; Newton  to  Locke,  13  Dec.,  1691. 


1690-2.  "I 
m 58 — 59.  J 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  NEWTON. 


219 


When  Locke  went  down  to  Oates  in  January,  1690-1, 
Newton  either  accompanied  or  joined  him  there.  “ I 
must  thank  both  you  and  Lady  Masham  for  your  civilities 
at  Oates,  and  for  not  thinking  that  I made  a long  stay 
there,”  he  wrote  soon  after  his  return  to  Cambridge.  “ I 
hope  we  shall  meet  again  in  due  time,  and  then  I should 
he  glad  to  have  your  judgment  upon  some  of  my  mystical 
fancies.  The  Son  of  Man  (Daniel,  ch.  vii.)  I take  to  be 
the  same  with  the  Word  of  God  upon  the  White  Horse  in 
Heaven  (Apocalypse,  ch.  xix.),  and  him  to  be  the  same 
with  the  Man-Child  (Apocalypse,  ch.  xii.),  for  both  are  to 
rule  the  nations  with  a rod  of  iron  ; but  whence  are  you 
certain  that  the  Ancient  of  Days  is  Christ  ? does  Christ 
anyw7here  sit  upon  the  throne  ? ” “ Know  you,”  he  asked 

in  a postscript,  “the  meaning  of  Daniel,  ch.  x.,  v.  23, 
‘ There  is  none  that  holdeth  with  me  in  these  things  but 
Michael  your  prince’?”1  “Concerning  the  Ancient  of 
Days,”  he  wrote  some  five  months  later,  “ there  seems  to 
he  a mistake  either  in  my  last  letter  or  in  yours,  because 
you  wrote  in  your  former  letter  that  the  Ancient  of  Days 
is  Christ,  and  in  my  last  I either  did  or  should  have  asked 
how  you  knew  that.  But  these  discourses  may  be  done 
with  more  freedom  at  our  next  meeting.”  2 When  they 
met,  there  w7as  doubtless  often  a good  deal  of  discourse 
between  them,  in  which  Lady  Masham  joined  when  she 
was  present,  about  the  interpretation  of  difficult  passages 
in  the  Bible. 

Newton,  like  Locke,  had  come  to  hold  very  independent 
opinions  about  some  questions  in  theology  ; and  he  seems 
to  have  been  even  more  anxious  than  Locke  to  avoid  the 
personal  inconvenience  to  which,  in  that  bigoted  age, 

1 Lord  King,  p.  216  ; Newton  to  Locke,  7 Feb.,  1690-1. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  217  ; Newton  to  Locke,  30  June,  1691. 


I 


220 


IN  RETIREMENT  ! WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Cdap.  XII. 


every  one  was  liable  who  ventured  to  differ  from  the 
orthodox  beliefs  or  professions  of  belief.  This  appears 
especially  from  a long  correspondence  having  to  do  with 
two  famous  texts:  “ There  are  three  that  bear  record  in 
heaven,  the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
these  three  are  one;”1  and,  “God  was  manifest  in  the 
flesh,  justified  in  the  spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preached  unto 
the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the  world,  received  up  into 
glory.”2  Newton  was  bold  enough  to  dispute  the  authen- 
ticity of  these  texts,  and  in  1690  he  wrote  ‘ An  Historical 
Account  of  Two  Notable  Corruptions  of  Scripture,  in  a 
Letter  to  a Friend  ’ — the  friend  being  Locke  though  the 
treatise  was  probably  only  put  in  this  form  as  a convenient 
one  for  its  conversational  and  somewhat  desultory,  albeit 
very  masterly,  handling  of  the  subject. 

In  this  year  Locke,  then  in  London,  had  some  thought 
of  visiting  his  friends  in  Holland— though,  as  we  only 
know  of  his  intention  from  two  passages  in  Newton’s 
letters,  it  is  probable  the  intention  was  never  carried  very 
far—  and  it  was  agreed  between  them  that  he  should  take 
the  letter  to  Amsterdam,  have  it  published  there  anony- 
mously and  in  French,  and  thus  render  it  almost  impos- 
sible for  the  authorship  to  be  detected.  “ I had  answered 
your  letter  sooner,”  Newton  wrote  to  him  from  Cambridge 
in  September,  “ but  that  I stayed  to  revise  and  send  you 
the  papers  which  you  desire ; but,  the  consulting  of 
authors  proving  more  tedious  than  I expected,  so  as  to 
make  me  defer  sending  them  till  next  week,  I could  not 
forbear  sending  this  letter  alone  to  let  you  know  how 
extremely  glad  I was  to  hear  from  you.  For,  though 
your  letter  brought  me  the  first  news  of  your  having  been 

1 1 John,  ch.  v.,  v.  7. 

2 1 Timothy,  ch.  iii. , v.  16. 


• 61*0-2.  “1 
iEt.  58 — 59.  J 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  NEWTON. 


221 


so  dangerously  ill,  yet,  by  your  undertaking  a journey 
into  Holland,  I hope  you  are  well  recovered. ” 1 “ 1 send 

you  now,”  be  wrote,  not  one,  but  six  weeks  later,  “ the 
papers  I promised.  I fear  I have  not  only  made  you  stay 
too  long  for  them,  but  also  made  them  too  long  by  an 
addition.  For,  upon  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  reviewing 
what  I had  by  me  concerning  the  text  of  1 John, 
ch.  v.,  v.  7,  and  examining  authors  a little  farther  about 
it,  I met  with  something  new  concerning  that  other  of 
1 Timothy,  ch.  iii.,  v.  16,  which  I thought  would  be  as 
acceptable  to  inquisitive  men,  and  might  be  set  down  in  a 
little  room,  but,  by  searching  farther  into  the  bottom  of 
it,  is  swelled  to  the  bigness  you  see.  I fear  the  length  of 
what  I say  on  both  texts  may  occasion  you  too  much 
trouble,  and  therefore,  if  at  present  you  get  only  what 
concerns  the  first  done  into  French,  that  of  the  other 
may  stay  till  we  see  what  success  the  first  will  have.  I 
have  no  entire  copy  besides  that  I send  you,  and  there- 
fore would  not  have  it  lost,  because  I may  perhaps,  after 
it  has  gone  abroad  long  enough  in  French,  put  it  forth  in 
English.  What  charge  you  are  at  about  it — for  I am  sure 
it  will  put  you  to  some — you  must  let  me  know  ; for  the 
trouble  alone  is  enough  for  you.  If  your  voyage  hold,  I 
wish  you  a prosperous  one  and  happy  return.”2 

As  Locke’s  voyage  to  Holland  did  not  hold,  he  sent 
Newton’s  manuscript  to  his  friend  Le  Clerc.  “ As  soon 
as  I have  leisure,”  Le  Clerc  wrote  in  the  following  April, 
“ I will  translate  into  either  Latin  or  French  the  little 
‘ Historical  Account,’  which  ought  to  see  the  light.”3  “ I 
have  as  yet  done  nothing  wfith  the  manuscript,”  Le  Clerc 

1 Lord  King,  p.  216 ; Newton  to  Locke,  28  Sept.,  1690. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  215  ; Newton  to  Locke,  14  Nov.,  1690. 

* Ibid.,  p.  230;  Le  Clerc  to  Locke,  [1 — ] 11  April,  1691. 


222 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


said  in  his  next  letter,  three  months  later,  “ as  other 
things  have  occupied  me ; hut  I hope  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  publishing  it  along  with  some  other  tracts.  It 
is  too  small  to  appear  by  itself.  A very  little  book  gets 
lost.  We  must  try  to  make  it  bigger  if  it  is  to  live.”1 
Le  Clerc  was  waiting  for  this  opportunity  when,  in 
January,  1691-2,  Newton,  apparently  not  aware  that  his 
manuscript  had  been  sent  to  Holland,  asked  Locke  to 
return  it.2  “ I was  of  opinion  my  papers  had  lain  still,” 
he  wrote  in  another  letter,  on  hearing  the  state  of  the 
case,  “ and  am  sorry  to  hear  this  news  about  them.  Let 
me  entreat  you  to  stop  their  translation  and  impression 
as  soon  as  you  can,  for  I desire  to  suppress  them.  If  your 
friend  hath  been  at  any  pains  and  charge,  I will  repay  it, 
and  gratify  him.”3  Locke  wrote  accordingly  to  Le  Clerc, 
who  thus  replied  in  April : “ It  is  a pity  that  this  disser- 
tation is  to  be  suppressed.  I do  not  think  that  any  one 
could  possibly  recognise  it  in  a translation.  In  a work  of 
this  sort,  where  I could  not  fail  to  catch  the  sense  of  the 
author,  I should  use  such  freedom  in  rendering  it  that  no 
one  would  suppose  it  to  be  a translation.”  4 “I  will  take 
great  care  of  the  papers,”  he  said  in  a subsequent  letter, 
“ until  you  tell  me  what  the  author  would  like  me  to  do 
with  them.  I can  assure  you  that  the  authorship  neither 
of  this  nor  of  any  other  anonymous  publication  issued 
from  this  place  would  be  divulged  on  the  spot,  so  that  it 
could  not  possibly  be  known  on  your  side  of  the  channel. 
Besides,  one  ought  to  risk  a little  in  order  to  be  of  service 
to  those  honest  folk  who  err  only  through  ignorance,  and 

1 Lord  King,  p.  230 ; Le  Clerc  to  Locke,  [21 — ] 31  July,  1691. 

2 Ibid. , p.  219  ; Newton  to  Locke,  26  Jan.,  1691-2. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  219  ; Newton  to  Locke,  16  Feb.,  1691-2. 

4 Ibid.,  p.  231  ; Le  Clerc  to  Locke,  [1 — ] 11  April,  1692. 


If5?’ -2.  "I 

At.  ‘9  J 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  NEWTON. 


223 


who,  if  they  get  a chance,  would  gladly  he  disabused  of 
Their  false  notions.”1  Le  Clerc  was  not  able  to  under- 
stand, or  at  any  rate  to  excuse,  Newton’s  excessive  timid- 
ity, but  of  course  he  yielded  to  it.  The  treatise  remained 
in  his  hands  till  he  died,  and  it  was  not  taken  from  its 
hiding-place  in  the  Eemonstrants’  Library  at  Amsterdam, 
except  that  some  sheets  of  the  manuscript  were  lost  in 
the  interval,  until  1734,  when  all  that  remained  was  pub- 
lished in  England.2 

At  this  time  Newton  and  Locke  were  in  correspondence 
about  another  curious  subject.3  Boyle  died  on  the  30th 
of  December,  1691,  at  the  age  of  sixty-five,  leaving 
Locke,  along  with  two  other  friends,  a sort  of  literary 
and  scientific  executor.  The  great  chemist,  seeing  what 
marvels  he  knew  to  be  achievable  by  help  of  his  favourite 
science,  may  he  excused  for  having  had,  not  exactly  a 
belief  in  alchemy,  but  a vague  hope  that  there  might  be 
some  truth  in  it ; and  among  the  treasures  that  he  left 
behind  him  was  a store  of  red  earth,  with  directions  for 
endeavouring  to  turn  it  into  gold.  “I  understand  Mr. 
Boyle  communicated  his  process  about  the  red  earth  to 
you  as  well  as  to  me,”  Newton  wrote  on  the  26th  of 
January  following,  “ and  before  his  death  procured  some 
of  that  earth  for  his  friends.”4 

Acting  on  this  hint,  Locke  forwarded  a parcel  of  the 

1 Lord  King,  p.  232 ; Le  Clerc  to  Locke,  [5 — 1 15  July,  1692. 

2 With  this  misleading  title,  ‘ Two  Letters  to  Mr.  Clarke,  late  Divinity 
Professor  of  the  Remonstrants  in  Holland.’  “ Clarke  ” is  of  course  an  error 
for  “Le  Clerc,”  with  whom,  however,  Newton  does  not  appear  to  have  had 
any  personal  acquaintance. 

3 A long  letter  from  Newton  to  Locke,  dated  30th  June,  1691,  in  which 
he  describes  the  injury  done  to  his  eyesight  by  too  much  looking  at  the  sun, 
was  printed  by  Lord  King,  p.  217,  and  reprinted  by  Sir  David  Brewster 

4 Lord  King,  p.  219 ; Newton  to  Locke,  26  Jan.,  1691  2. 


224 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XI  i. 


material  to  Newton,  who  wrote  back,  “You  have  sent 
me  much  more  earth  than  I expected.  I desired  only  a 
specimen,  having  no  inclination  to  prosecute  the  process. 
For,  in  good  earnest,  I have  no  opinion  of  it.  But  since 
you  have  a mind  to  prosecute  it,  I should  he  glad  to  assist 
you  all  I can  ; hut  I have  lost  the  first  and  third  parts  out 
of  my  pocket.  I thank  you  for  what  you  communicated 
to  me  out  of  your  own  notes  about  it.”1 

“ Mr.  Boyle,”  Locke  replied,  “ has  left  to  Dr.  Dickson, 
Dr.  Cox,  and  me  the  inspection  of  his  papers.  I have, 
here  enclosed,  sent  you  the  transcript  of  two  of  them  that 
came  to  my  hand,  because  I knew  you  desired  it.  Of  one 
of  them  I have  sent  you  all  there  was  ; of  the  other  only 
the  first  period,  because  it  was  all  you  seemed  to  have  a 
mind  to.  If  you  desire  the  other  periods,  I will  send 
them  too.  If  I meet  with  anything  more  of  the  process 
he  communicated  to  you,  you  shall  have  it,  and  if  there 
be  anything  more  in  relation  to  any  of  Mr.  Boyle’s  papers, 
or  anything  else  wherein  I can  serve  you,  he  pleased  to 
command  me.” 2 

“ I am  glad  you  have  all  the  three  parts  of  the  recipe 
entire,”  said  Newton  in  his  reply ; “ but  before  you  go  to 
work  about  it,  I desire  you  would  consider  these  things, 
for  it  may  perhaps  save  you  time  and  expense.”  “In 
dissuading  you  from  too  hasty  trial  of  this  recipe,”  he 
added,  after  much  else  on  the  subject,  “I  have  forborne 
to  say  anything  against  multiplication  in  general,  because 
you  seemed  persuaded  of  it ; though  there  is  one  argu- 
ment against  it  which  I could  never  find  an  answer  to, 

1 Edleston,  ‘ Correspondence  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  and  Professor  Cotes, 
etc.’  (1850),  p.  275  ; Newton  to  Locke,  7 July,  1G92. 

2 Brewster,  ' Memoirs  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,’  vol.  ii.,  p.  4G1 ; Locke  to 
Newton,  26  July,  1692. 


j£9Jg]  FRIENDSHIP  WITH  NEWTON.  225 

and  which,  if  you  will  let  me  have  your  opinion  about  it, 
I will  send  you  in  my  next.”1 

If  that  promised  letter  was  sent,  it  has  not  come  down 
to  us,  and  we  hear  no  more  about  Boyle’s  experiments 
in  gold-making  or  their  continuation  by  either  Locke  or 
Newton.  Notwithstanding  Newton’s  suggestions,  it  seems 
probable  that,  though  anxious  that  the  matter  should 
be  sifted,  Locke  did  not  turn  aside  from  his  literary  and 
other  occupations  to  make  any  researches  of  his  own, 
and  that  he  chiefly  concerned  himself  in  this  business 
from  a desire  to  do  justice  to  the  friend  who  had  left  him 
his  papers  to  arrange. 

He  had  done  something  towards  that  before  Boyle’s 
death.  Boyle  had  at  intervals  collected  a great  number 
of  notes  on  meteorology  and  barometrical  and  thermo- 
metrical  observations.  These  notes  he  asked  Locke  to 
edit,  and  Locke,  having  arranged  them  in  chapters  and 
made  as  many  alterations  as  he  felt  that  he  had  liberty 
to  offer,  returned  the  manuscript  with  a long  letter  sug- 
gesting further  changes  before  its  publication.2  Through 
some  confusion,  however,  the  work  wras  published  in  its 
incomplete  form,  as  ‘A  General  History  of  the  Air.’ 
What  share  Locke  had  in  the  editing  of  Boyle’s  other 
works,  after  his  death,  is  not  recorded. 

Having  broken  through  the  strict  order  of  chronology 
in  order  to  group  together  our  more  important  illustra- 
tions of  Locke’s  intercourse  with  Newton  during  this 
period  of  his  life,  we  may  here  go  farther  ahead  and 
take  note  of  one  very  pathetic  episode. 

Newton,  as  even  some  of  our  few  extracts  from  his 
correspondence  help  to  show,  was  subject  to  a nervous 

1 Lord  King,  p.  220  ; Newton  to  Locke,  2 August,  1G92. 

2 Boyle,  ‘ Works,’  vol.  v.,  p.  571 ; Locke  to  Bovle,  21  Oct.,  1691. 

Vol.  IT.- 15 


226 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  X1T. 


irritability  that  occasionally  led  him  to  think  and  say 
unkind  and  unjust  things  about  his  friends  ; and  on  at 
least  one  occasion  this  irritability  was  so  aggravated  by 
over-work  and  other  causes,  as  to  amount  to  a temporary 
aberration  of  intellect.  While  recovering  from  this  state 
in  the  autumn  of  1693,  he  addressed  the  following  strange 
letter  of  confession  to  Locke,  dated  from  “ The  Bull,  in 
Shoreditch.” 

“ Sir, — Being  of  opinion  that  you  endeavoured  to  embroil  me  with 
women  and  by  other  means,  I was  so  much  affected  with  it,  as  that  when 
one  told  me  you  were  sickly  and  would  not  live,  I answered  ’twere  better 
if  you  were  dead.  I desire  you  to  forgive  me  this  uncharitableness. 
For  I am  now  satisfied  that  what  you  have  done  is  just,  and  I beg  your 
pardon  for  my  having  hard  thoughts  of  you  for  it,  and  for  representing 
that  you  struck  at  the  root  of  morality,  in  a principle  you  laid  down  in 
your  book  of  ideas,1  and  designed  to  pursue  in  another  book,  and  that  I 
took  you  for  a Hobbist.  I beg  your  pardon  also  for  saying  or  thinking 
that  there  was  a design  to  sell  me  an  office,  or  to  embroil  me. 

“ I am  your  most  humble  and  unfortunate  servant, 

“ Is.  Newton.”  2 

Locke’s  generous  answer,  which  we  have  only  in  his 
own  unfinished  draft,  needs  no  comment. 

“ Sir, — I have  been,  ever  since  I first  knew  you,  so  entirely  and  sincerely 
your  friend,  and  thought  you  so  much  mine,  that  I could  not  have  believed 
what  you  tell  me  of  yourself,  had  I had  it  from  anybody  else.  And  though 
I cannot  but  be  mightily  troubled  that  you  should  have  had  so  many  wrong 
and  unjust  thoughts  of  me,  yet,  next  to  the  return  of  good  offices,  such  as 
from  a sincere  good-will  I have  ever  done  you,  I receive  your  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  contrary  as  the  kindest  thing  you  could  have  done  me,  since 
it  gives  me  hopes  that  I have  not  lost  a friend  I so  much  valued.  After 
what  your  letter  expresses,  I shall  not  need  to  say  anything  to  justify 
myself  to  you.  I shall  always  think  your  own  reflection  on  my  carriage, 
both  to  you  and  all  mankind,  will  sufficiently  do  that.  Instead  of  that, 


1 That  is,  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.’ 

8 Lord  King,  p.  224 ; Newton  to  Locke,  16  Sept.,  1693. 


1653.  I 
Mt.  61. J 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  NEWTON. 


227 


give  me  leave  to  assure  you  that  I am  more  ready  to  forgive  you  than  you 
can  be  to  desire  it ; and  I do  it  so  freely  and  fully  that  I wish  for  nothing 
more  than  the  opportunity  to  convince  you  that  I truly  love  and  esteem 
you,  and  that  I have  still  the  same  good-will  for  you  as  if  nothing  of  this 
had  happened.  To  confirm  this  to  you  more  fully,  I should  be  glad  to 
meet  you  anywhere,  and  the  rather  because  the  conclusion  of  your  letter 
makes  me  apprehend  it  would  not  be  wholly  useless  to  you.  But  whether 
you  think  it  fit  or  not,  I leave  wholly  to  you.  I shall  always  be  ready  to 
serve  you  to  my  utmost,  in  any  way  you  shall  like,  and  shall  only  need 
your  commands  or  permission  to  do  it. 

“ My  book  is  going  to  the  press  for  a second  edition  ; and  though  I can 
answer  for  the  design  with  which  I writ  it,  yet  since  you  have  so  oppor- 
tunely given  me  notice  of  what  you  have  said  of  it,  I should  take  it  as  a 
favour  if  you  would  point  out  to  me  the  places  that  gave  occasion  to  that 
censure,  that,  by  explaining  myself  better,  I may  avoid  being  mistaken  by 
others,  or  unawares  doing  the  least  prejudice  to  truth  or  virtue.  I am  sure 
you  are  so  much  a friend  to  them  both  that,  were  you  none  to  me,  I could 
expect  this  from  you.  But  I cannot  doubt  but  you  would  do  a great  deal 
more  than  this  for  my  sake,  who  after  all  have  all  the  concern  of  a friend 
for  you,  wish  you  extremely  well,  and  am  without  compliment,  etc.”  1 2 

Newton’s  reply,  with  which  this  correspondence,  as  far 
as  it  has  come  down  to  ns,  ends,  contained  a tolerably 
sufficient  explanation,  but  might  have  been  more  cordial. 

“ Sir, — The  last  winter,  by  sleeping  too  often  by  my  fire,  I got  an  ill 
habit  of  sleeping ; and  a distemper,  which  this  summer  has  been  epidemical, 
put  me  further  out  of  order,  so  that  when  I wrote  to  you,  I had  not  slept 
an  hour  a night  for  a fortnight  together,  and  for  five  nights  together  not  a 
wink.  I remember  I wrote  to  you,  but  what  I said  of  your  book  I remem- 
ber not.  If  you  please  to  send  me  a transcript  of  that  passage,  I will  give 
you  an  account  of  it  if  I can. 

“ I am  your  most  humble  servant, 

“ Is.  Newton.’ 


1 Lord  King,  p.  224;  Locke  to  Newton,  5 Oct.,  1698.  As  this  lettei 
from  Oates,  and  the  next  one,  from  Cambridge,  bear  the  same  date,  there 
is  evidently  an  error  of  a d!ty  or  two  in  one  of  them. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  225  ; Newton  to  Locke,  5 Oct.,  1693. 


228 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


“ It  gave  me  very  great  pleasure,”  Limborch  bad  written 
in  May,  1691,  in  answer  to  Locke’s  letter  informing  him 
of  bis  intended  residence  at  Oates,  but  not  informing  bim 
that  Damaris  Cudworth’s  title  was  now  Lady  Masbam, 
“ to  learn  from  yours  that  Lady  Cudwortb  bas  sucb 
a kindly  recollection  of  me.  Among  all  my  English 
friends,  tlie  one  I always  most  esteemed  was  Dr.  Cud- 
wortb. His  letters  were  inspired  by  more  than  ordinary 
learning  and  wisdom ; and  it  was  always  a trouble  to  me 
that  bis  more  important  occupations  caused  bim  to  send 
me  so  few  of  them.  I now  rejoice  that  tbis  worthy  lady 
inherits  not  so  much  her  father’s  wealth  ” — it  is  not  likely 
that  Cudworth  bad  much — “ as  her  father’s  talents  and 
learning,  and  that  she  represents  bim  in  those  ways  which 
we  consider  suitable  to  men.  I am  glad  that  she  approves 
of  the  work  on  which  I am  now  engaged  ” — the  4 Historia 
Inquisitionis  ’ — “ and  my  plan  of  it ; and  I hope  that,  when 
it  appears,  she  will  be  satisfied  with  the  work  itself,  in 
which  she  will  see  set  forth  the  whole  mystery  of  iniquity, 
as  far  as  a thing  so  utterly  atrocious  and  detestable  can 
be  set  forth  in  words.  I beg  you  humbly  to  tender  to  her 
my  services  and  tell  her  that  I heartily  pray  God  to  com- 
pensate by  other  favours  that  weakness  of  her  eyesight 
which  has  been  caused  by  her  too  much  reading.”1 

In  this  same  letter  Limborch  made  two  announcements 
— that  Le  Clerc  was  married,  and  that  Furly  had  lost  his 
wife.  The  latter  intelligence  had  reached  Locke  some 
weeks  before  he  heard  it  from  Limborch,  and  he  had 
already  sent  a very  characteristic  letter  of  condolence  to 
his  friend  in  Rotterdam. 

1 Lord  King  (ed.  1830),  vol.  ii.,  p.  311;  Limborch  to  Locke,  [19 — ] 
29  May,  1691. 


1631.  "I 
yEt.  58.  J 


A LETTER  OF  CONDOLENCE  TO  FURLY. 


229 

“ Dear  Friend, — Though  I am  very  much  concerned  and  troubled  for 
your  great  loss,  yet,  your  sorrow  being  of  that  kind  which  time  and  not 
arguments  is  wont  to  cure,  I know  not  whether  I should  say  anything  to 
you  to  abate  your  grief,  but  that,  it  serving  to  no  purpose  at  all,  but  making 
you  thereby  the  more  unfit  to  supply  the  loss  of  their  mother  to  your 
remaining  children,  who  now  more  need  your  care,  help,  and  comfort,  the 
sooner  you  get  rid  of  it  the  better  it  will  be  both  for  them  and  you.  If  you 
are  convinced  this  is  fit  to  be  done,  I need  not  make  use  to  you  of  the  common 
though  yet  reasonable  topics  of  consolation.  I know  you  expect  not  to 
have  the  common  and  unalterable  law  of  mortality,  which  reaches  the 
greatest,  be  dispensed  with  for  your  sake.  Our  friends  and  relations  are 
but  borrowed  advantages,  lent  us  during  pleasure,  and  must  be  given  back 
whenever  called  for.  We  receive  them  upon  these  terms,  and  why  should 
we  repine  ? or,  if  we  do,  what  profits  it  us  ? But  I see  my  affection  is 
running  into  reasoning,  which  you  need  not,  and  can  think  of  without  any 
suggestions  of  mine.  I wonder  not  at  the  greatness  of  your  grief,  hut  I 
shall  wonder  if  you  let  it  prevail  on  you. 

“ Your  thinking  of  retiring  some  whither  from  business  was  very  natural 
upon  the  first  stroke  of  it ; but  here  I must  interpose  to  advise  you  the 
contrary.  It  is  to  give  yourself  up  to  all  the  ills  that  grief  and  melancholy 
can  produce,  which  are  some  of  the  worst  we  suffer  in  this  life.  Want  of 
health,  want  of  spirit,  want  of  useful  thought,  is  the  state  of  those  who 
abandon  themselves  to  griefs,  whereof  business  is  the  best,  the  safest,  and 
the  quickest  cure.  I say  not  this  in  favour  of  your  doubt  whether  you 
should  be  acceptable  to  any  of  your  friends.  I know  none  of  them  you 
named  that  I do  not  think  you  would  be  acceptable  to  ; and  I can  assure  you 
of  it  from  some  whom  you  did  not  then  think  of.  My  Lady  Masham,  always 
inquiring  very  kindly  after  you,  when  I told  her  by  the  outside  that  the  letter 
I had  then  received  was  from  you,  was  impatient  to  know  how  you  did,  and 
when  I told  her  of  your  loss  and  sadness,  was  mightily  concerned,  and 
desired  me  to  tell  you  that,  if  you  would  come  and  spend  some  time  here 
with  her,  you  should  be  very  welcome.  You  do  not  doubt  but  I should  be 
exceeding  glad  of  your  company.  I know  no  man’s  I would  sooner  have  or 
should  be  more  pleased  with.  Were  I settled  in  a house  of  my  own,  I 
should  tell  you  how  welcome  you  should  be  to  me  a little  more  at  large ; 
but  I suppose  you  doubt  it  not. 

“ But  for  all  this  kind  and  sincere  invitation  from  my  Lady  Masham,  the 
like  whereof  I doubt  not  but  you  would  receive  from  your  other  friends,  if 
they  knew  your  state  and  present  thoughts,  I advise  you  to  think  of  none 


230 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


of  them.  You  would  be  presently  sick  of,  and  constantly  uneasy  in,  such  a 
course  of  life.  Keep  in  your  employment.  Increase  it,  and  be  as  busy  in 
it  as  you  can — now  more  than  ever.  This  is  best  for  you  and  for  your 
children ; and  when  your  thoughts  are  a little  come  to  themselves  and  the 
discomposure  over,  then  calmly  consider  what  will  be  the  best  way  for  you 
to  dispose  of  them  and  yourself ; but,  at  present,  lay  by  none  of  your  busi- 
ness, nor  neglect  it  in  the  least.  I know  there  is  little  room  for  reasoning  in 
the  first  disorder  of  grief.  What  that  proposes  is  alone  hearkened  to.  I 
must  therefore  desire  you  to  trust  me  on  this  occasion.  I am  truly  your 
friend  and  love  you,  and  therefore  you  may  do  it.  I am  unbiassed  and 
not  under  the  prevalency  of  any  passion  in  the  cure,  and  therefore  am  in 
a state  to  judge  better,  and  I will  be  answerable  to  you  for  it  you  will  here- 
after thank  me  for  this  advice ; and  for  your  children  we  will  hereafter, 
when  you  are  in  a better  state  to  do  it,  consider  what  will  be  best  for  you 
to  resolve. 

“ Pray  have  a care  of  your  health,  and  believe  that 

“ I am  sincerely  yours, 

“ J.  L.”i 

“ I congratulate  our  friend  Le  Clerc  on  his  long-delayed 
marriage,”  Locke  wrote  to  Limborch  two  months  later,  in 
answer  to  that  part  of  his  letter  in  which  the  event  was 
announced.  “I  wish  them  both  every  kind  of  good 
fortune  and  happiness.  Match-making  and  love-making 
and  matrimonial  delights  are  evidently  the  cause  of  my 
having  received  so  few  letters  from  him  lately — and  a very 
good  cause  too,  as  love  does  and  should  engross  all  the 
attention  of  a lover.”2  Le  Clerc  was  thirty-four  when  he 
married,  and  the  union,  we  are  told,  was  a union  of  lovers 
and  one  of  undisturbed  happiness  during  three-and-forty 
years.3 

1 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  47 ; Locke  to  Furly,  28  April  [1691].  I have 
omitted  an  unimportant  paragraph  and  a postscript  referring  to  other 
matters. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  18  June,  1691. 

3 Van  der  Hoeven,  ‘ De  Joanne  Clerico  Dissertatio  Historico-Literaria,’ 

p.  108. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  LIMBORCH.  231 

Of  Locke’s  correspondence  with  Le  Clerc  during  the 
eighteen  or  nineteen  years  of  their  acquaintance,  only  a 
few  specimens  have  come  down  to  us.  His  correspond- 
ence with  Limborch  has  had  a better  fate,  and  out  of  the 
numerous  letters  that  passed  between  them  while  Locke 
resided  at  Oates  it  would  be  possible,  with  suitable  anno- 
tations, to  construct,  if  not  a complete  history,  at  least  a 
very  comprehensive  sketch,  of  the  progress  of  religious, 
theological  and  philosophical  thought  among  the  best 
thinkers  during  this  period.  It  would  be  improper,  how- 
ever, here  to  do  more  than  extract  from  them  the  portions 
of  most  strictly  biographical  interest,  and  in  these  there 
is  so  much  sameness  that  it  would  be  tedious  to  repeat 
them  at  length.  In  every  letter  Locke  indulges  in  profuse 
and  evidently  honest  expressions  of  affection  for  his  chief 
friend  in  Amsterdam  and  for  his  wife  and  children,  and 
conveys  kindly  messages  to  Le  Clerc,  Yeen,  Guenellon, 
and  his  other  friends  in  the  neighbourhood  ; and  Limborch 
is  as  profuse  and  as  tender  in  the  letters  he  sends  back  to 
his  friend  at  Oates,  and  rarely  forgets  to  say  some  pleasant 
words  about  Lady  Masham  and  others  whom  he  knows 
personally  or  by  repute.  Limborch’ s ‘ Historia  Inquisi- 
tionis,’  the  most  important  of  his  writings  after  the 
‘ Theologia  Christiana,’  and  his  other  works,  are  frequently 
referred  to,  and  Locke’s  studies  and  pursuits  are  hardly 
less  clearly  indicated. 

“ Because  I intended  to  send  you  a particularly  long 
letter,”  Locke  wrote  in  November,  1691,  “you  have  not 
yet  had  anything  at  all  from  me.  I have  been  trying  to 
find  time  enough  in  which  to  talk  freely  and  fully  with 
you,  and  make  a proper  return  for  your  last  and  very 
friendly  epistle,  which  ought  to  have  been  answered  long 
ago.  But,  I know  not  how  it  is,  so  many  occupations, 


232 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


not  of  my  seeking,  have  so  engrossed  my  time  that  I have 
not  even  had  leisure  in  which  to  pay  proper  attention  to 
certain  pressing  affairs  of  my  own.  Do  not  think  I have 
been  devoting  myself  to  public  affairs.  Neither  my  health 
nor  my  strength,  nor  my  fitness  for  the  work  to  be  done, 
permitted  that.  And  yet,  when  I try  to  consider  what  it 
is  that  has  so  hindered  me  during  these  last  three  months, 
I can  only  find  that  I have  been  in  a sort  of  maze,  in 
which  each  day  brought  some  fresh  business  that  led  to 
other  business  that  I could  neither  foresee  nor  avoid.”1 

Locke  did  not  here  say  so,  but  much  of  his  time 
appears  to  have  been  at  this  period  employed  in  the 
editing  of  Boyle’s  ‘ General  History  of  the  Air.’  He 
went  to  London  to  visit  Boyle  on  his  deathbed  in 
December,  1691.  “ Since  then,”  he  w7rote  on  the  last 

day  of  the  following  February,  “ my  health  has  kept  me 
in  the  country,  for  I found  my  lungs  could  not  bear  the 
smoke  of  the  city.”2 

In  May  he  spent  a day  or  two  at  Cambridge,  that 
being  his  first  visit  to  the  town  of  which  we  have  any 
record ; though,  doubtless,  he  had  been  there  often 
before.  “ Now  the  churlish  weather  is  almost  over,” 
Newton  had  written  to  him  on  the  3rd,  “ I was  thinking, 
within  a post  or  two,  to  put  you  in  mind  of  my  desire  to 
see  you  here,  where  you  shall  he  as  welcome  as  I can 
make  you.  I am  glad  you  have  prevented  me,  because  I 
hope  now  to  see  you  the  sooner.  You  may  lodge  con- 
veniently either  at  the  Bose  tavern  or  Queen’s  Arms 
inn.”3  On  his  way  back  he  halted  for  an  hour  or  two 
at  Bishop  Stortford,  and  thence  wrote  a letter  which 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  334  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  14  Nov.,  1G91. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  337  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  29  Feb.,  1G91-2. 

3 Lord  King,  p.  222  ; Newton  to  Locke,  3 May,  1G92. 


1602.  "I 
2Et.  59.  J 


EDWARD  CLARKE. 


233 


claims,  not  only  to  be  quoted  in  full,  but  also  to  be 
furnished  with  a preface. 

Edward  Clarke,  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  and  with 
whose  name  wre  have  already  met  once  or  twice,  was  a 
man  of  good  position  as  owner  of  Cliipley,  a few  miles 
west  of  Taunton,  who  had  become  a member  of  parlia- 
ment in  February,  1690-1  ; who  held  officce  as  one  of  the 
commissioners  of  excise  ; and  who,  wherever  he  may 
have  generallyresided  before,  was  from  that  time  much 
in  London.  Locke’s  acquaintance  with  him  was  evidently 
of  very  long  standing,  and,  during  at  any  rate  some  time 
previous  to  his  going  to  Holland,  they  had  met  and 
corresponded  on  terms  of  great  intimacy.  Locke  had 
been  Clarke’s  trusted  adviser  as  to  the  management  and 
education  of  his  children  ; with  one  of  whom,  Elizabeth, 
a little  girl  now  about  ten  or  eleven  years  old,  he  main- 
tained a frequent  correspondence,  calling  her  generally 
his  “ wife,”  sometimes  “ Mrs.  Locke.”  He  also  acted 
as  a family  doctor  and  family  friend  in  every  other  sort 
of  way ; while  Clarke,  in  return,  appears  to  have  been  his 
chief  counsellor  and  agent  in  all  sorts  of  business  con- 
cerns. 

The  letter  which  Locke  wrote  to  this  friend  shows  us 
that  he  continued  his  old  habit  of  giving  medical  advice 
to  other  friends  as  well ; and,  being  now  acting  as  doctor 
to  Mrs.  Cudworth,  Lady  Masham’s  mother,  and,  doubt- 
less, to  the  wdiole  household  at  Oates  and  the  neigh- 
bouring cottagers,  we  can  partly  understand  his  recent 
statement  to  Limborch,  that  his  days  were  repeatedly 
filled  up  with  occupations  that  he  could  neither  foresee 
nor  prevent.  The  letter  was  addressed  to  “ Edward 
Clarke,  Esq.,  Member  of  Parliament,  at  Mrs.  Henman’s, 
over  against  Little  Turnstile,  in  Holborn.” 


234 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


“ Dear  Sir, — I am  got  thus  far  homeward  from  Cambridge,  where  I have 
been  for  two  days,  drawn  thither  by  business  that  Avas  very  necessary  to 
despatch.  I staid  there  less  time  than  I could  well  have  spent  there,  and 
was  very  much  importuned  to.  But  I left  not  Mrs.  Cudworth  so  well 
restored  to  her  health  as  to  be  sure  she  would  need  no  more  assistance, 
which  made  my  lady  very  earnestly  press  my  speedy  return  from  Cambridge, 
and  ’twas  with  much  difficulty  I got  leave  to  go  thither.  I here  meet  with 
yours  of  the  10th  instant,  which  is  the  first  and  only  one  of  yours  is  come 
to  my  hands  since  I saw  you. 

“ The  consultation  you  would  have  with  me  about  the  health  of  our 
infirm  friend,  I know  not  wrhat  to  say  to.  You  know  I wish  him  very 
well,  but  my  notions  in  physic  are  so  different  from  the  method  which 
now  obtains,  that  I am  like  to  do  little  good,  and,  not  being  of  the 
college,1  can  make  no  other  figure  there  but  of  an  unskilful  empiric  ; and 
no  doubt  anything  I should  offer  would  seem  as  strange  to  his  physicians 
as  the  way  you  tell  me  they  take  with  him  seems  strange  to  me.  But,  as 
every  one’s  hypothesis  is,  so  is  his  reason  disposed  to  judge  both  of 
disease  and  medicines.  But  I hope  the  young  gentleman  will  do  well 
without  me,  and  that  the  danger  will  be  over  by  the  time  this  comes  to 
you.  I hope  my  lady  will  not,  as  you  say,  blame  my  absence,  considering 
the  necessity  that  called  me  away,  and  her  son  was  in  so  good  hands  that 
I concluded  there  was  no  need  of  me  in  that  case,  and  I shall  never  omit 
any  occasion  wherein  I may  be  serviceable.2 

“ In  your  next  pray  do  but  name  the  person  of  whom  I may  inquire 
upon  occasion  for  what  belongs  to  me.  You  need  hut  name  him,  without 
troubling  yourself  to  mention  what  you  inform  me,  in  yours  that  I have 
now  before  me,  is  done. 

“ I have  also  received,  this  post,  a letter  from  Mrs.  Lqckhart.  Pray 
present  my  service  to  her  and  the  rest  of  my  friends  as  they  come  in  your 
way  ; especially  to  madam,  my  wife,  and  the  rest  of  your  family. 

“ I am,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

“ J.  Locke.”3 


1 The  College  of  Physicians. 

2 I cannot  identify  the  young  gentleman  about  whom  Locke’s  professional 
advice  was  here  sought,  nor  the  “lady,”  his  mother,  nor  the  “person” 
referred  to  in  the  next  paragraph. 

3 Additional  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  4290,  fol.  105  ; Locke  to 
Clarke,  13  May,  1692.  There  are  forty-one  letters  addressed  by  Locke 
to  Clarke  in  this  collection.  A few,  and  portions  of  some  others,  have 


1G9?.  1 
die.  59.J 


OCCUPATIONS  IN  LONDON. 


235 


Between  the  middle  of  June  and  the  middle  of  October, 
except  that  in  August  he  returned  to  Oates  for  three  weeks, 
Locke  was  in  London,  thus  making  a longer  stay  there 
than  at  any  time  during  the  previous  year  and  a half,1  and 
in  these  months  he  saw  much  of  Clarke,  and  transacted  a 
good  deal  of  important  business.  Among  other  occupa- 
tions, he  rendered  to  Limborch  what  the  latter  regarded 
as  a valuable  service,  and  in  so  doing  renewed  an  old 
friendship  of  some  interest. 

The  printing  of  the  ‘ Historia  Inquisitionis,’  which  was 
ready  for  the  press  a year  before,  was  proceeding  very 
slowly.  “I  hope  the  Wetsteinian  press” — Wetstein,  it 
will  be  remembered,  being  the  great  publisher  of  Amster- 
dam— “ will  hurry  on  with  its  work,”  Locke  wrote  to 
Limborch  on  the  2nd  of  June,  “ for  your  account  of  the 
Holy  Office  is  much  needed.  For  my  part,  I am  waiting 
impatiently  for  it,  and  I know  that  it  will  be  of  great 
benefit  to  the  whole  Christian  world.”  2 “ The  Wetsteinian 
press  is  now  hard  at  work,”  answered  Limborch  on  the 
17th.  “ The  printing  of  the  history  of  the  Holy  Office  is 

proceeding  rapidly.  Already  the  third  part  is  in  hand.  I 

been  printed  by  Dr.  Forster  in  the  ‘ Original  Letters,’  but  so  inaccurately 
and  incompletely,  that  in  future  I shall  refer  to  the  originals.  For  Dr. 
Forster’s  text  of  Locke’s  letters  to  Furly  I am  obliged  to  trust  to  him, 
correcting  only  a few  manifest  blunders. 

1 While  at  Oates,  Locke  resumed  the  register  of  the  weather  which  he 
had  kept  at  Oxford  and  in  London  long  before.  All  this  has  been  lost, 
except  the  portion  for  1692,  which,  shortly  before  his  death,  he  sent  to  Sir 
Hans  Sloane,  offering  to  publish  the  whole  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions, 
but  dying  too  soon  to  adhere  to  his  proposal.  This  portion  was  printed 
( Philosophical  Transactions,  vol.  xxiv.,  1706,  pp.  1917 — 1937),  and  the 
original  is  in  the  British  Museum  ( Additional  MSS.,  no.  4052).  It  enables 
me  to  trace  his  movements  more  exactly  during  the  period  to  which  it  refers. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Locke  to  Limborch,  2 June, 
1692. 


236 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XU 


hope  the  whole  will  be  ready  within  three  months,  and 
till  then  I shall  be  as  busy  as  I can  be,  and  I want  you  to 
help  me.  I did  not  care  about  dedicating  my  other  hooks 
to  anybody ; but  I am  very  anxious  to  dedicate  this  book, 
in  favour  of  liberty  of  conscience,  and  against  that  persecu- 
tion which  has  brought  such  great  disasters  on  religion,  to 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury — a man  so  much  superior 
to  every  theologian  whom  I know,  both  in  character  and  in 
abilities — if  he  will  allow  me  to  do  so.  Both  his  writings 
and  his  acts  show  that  he  favours  the  opinions  which  I 
have  undertaken  to  set  forth  ; for,  though  I have  written 
a history,  it  is  a history  intended  to  throw  light  on  the 
arguments  that  I propound  in  it.  I wish  that  you,  who 
know  him,  would  find  an  opportunity  of  asking  him  to 
bestow  on  me  this  great  favour.  I know  not  whether  my 
position  among  the  remonstrants  will  stir  up  any  hatred 
and  wrath  against  the  book,  and  I do  not  wish  it  to  excite 
any  prejudice  against  a man  whom  I respect  and  venerate 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  You  know  the  scope  and 
argument  of  the  work,  and  can  explain  them  to  him.  To 
no  one  could  a work  in  favour  of  liberty  of  conscience  be 
dedicated  more  properly  than  to  him,  who  is  not  only  a 
great  friend  of  liberty,  but  also  a great  friend  of  the  great 
friends  of  liberty.  If  he  does  not  reject  the  dedication,  I 
should  like  to  send  him,  through  you,  a draft  of  it,  in  order 
that  he  may  tell  me,  if  he  is  so  kind,  of  anything  that  he 
wishes  cut  out,  altered,  or  amplified.  I rely  on  your  dis- 
cretion in  the  matter,  and  shall  be  for  ever  obliged  by 
your  letting  me  know  the  result  as  quickly  as  you  can,  as 
the  printing  is  now  proceeding  rapidly,  and  there  is  not 
much  time  for  delay.”  1 

1 Lord  King  (ed.  1830),  vol.  ii.,  p.  324  ; Limborch  to  Locke,  [17 — ] 
27  June,  1692. 


1692.  I 
jEt.  69.  J 


LIMBORCH  AND  TILLOTSON. 


237 


“ On  receipt  of  your  letter,”  Locke  replied,  “ I called 
to-day  on  the  archbishop.  When  he  first  heard  your 
name,  he  said  yon  had  sent  him  a copy  of  your  disputa- 
tion with  the  Jew,  and  excused  himself  for  not  having 
acknowledged  it  on  the  ground  that  his  bad  health,  the 
weakness  of  his  eyes  and  other  causes  had  prevented 
him  from  reading  it.  But  he  greatly  praised  both  that 
work  and  its  author,  and  said  that  the  present  is  a most 
opportune  time  for  a history  of  the  Holy  Office.  He  read 
through  the  list  of  chapters  with  great  pleasure  and  appro- 
bation, and,  when  I informed  him  of  your  wish  to  dedicate 
the  work  to  him,  he  assented  to  it  with  a grace  and  cour- 
tesy that  would  certainly  have  shown  you,  had  you  been 
there,  that  your  proposal  gave  him  pleasure.  Send  your 
draft  dedication,  therefore,  as  soon  as  you  can;  I know 
his  modesty,  and  approve  of  your  wish  that  he  should 
read  it  before  it  is  printed.  I will  show  it  to  him,  which 
; I know  he  will  take  as  a compliment,  and  I will  tell  you 
if  he  wishes  any  change  made  in  it.”  1 

“ 1 return  yon  as  quickly  as  I can  your  dedicatory 
i epistle,  approved  by  the  archbishop,”  Locke  wrote  five 

I weeks  later.  “ He  objected  to  nothing  in  it,  except  that 
he  complained  of  your  having  said  so  much  about  him ; 
but  that  he  passed  by.  In  proportion  to  his  renown  and 
worth  is  his  modesty.”  2 

Dr.  Tillotson  had  been  promoted  from  the  deanery  to 
the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury  in  May,  1691.  Locke 
must  have  been  acquainted  with  him  for  twenty  years  or 
more,  ever  since,  if  not  before,  the  days  when  they  had 
joined  with  others  of  like  mind,  hut  few  as  bold  or  honest, 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  339 ; Locke  to  Limborch,  30  June,  1692. 

'l  MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  2 August, 


238 


IN  RETIREMENT  ! WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Ciiap.  XII. 


in  efforts  to  make  the  church  of  England  in  the  early 
years  of  Charles  the  Second  so  free  and  comprehensive 
that  all  but  the  most  violent  protestant  dissenters  and 
the  Eoman  catholics  might  find  a place  in  it.  His 
virtues  are  too  well  known  for  it  to  be  necessary  that 
they  should  be  here  set  forth,  and,  if  that  is  not  done,  it 
would  be  unfair  to  call  attention  to  the  blemishes  in  his 
character,  wrhich  were  notably  few  and  slight,  especially 
when  we  remember  that  he  was  a clergyman  of  the  church 
of  England  under  the  last  two  Stuarts,  as  well  as  the 
primate  of  that  church  under  William  the  Third.  In 
these  years,  when  Locke  had  parted  widely  from  many 
ecclesiastics  who  were  his  friends  in  former  times,  it  is 
pleasant  to  observe  his  continued  friendship  with  the 
most  liberal  of  all  the  great  churchmen  who  sought  to 
make  the  organisation  of  which  they  were  ministers  a 
national  church  instead  of  an  established  sect. 

The  main  business  that  brought  Locke  to  London  in 
this  summer  time  of  1692  appears  to  have  been  the 
publication  of  his  ‘ Third  Letter  for  Toleration.’  This 
work,  nearly  eight  times  as  long  as  the  first  ‘ Letter  con- 
cerning Toleration,’  and  filling  a bulky  volume,  was  dated 
by  him  the  20th  of  June.  It  had  evidently  occupied  the 
chief  part  of  his  time  during  several  previous  months,  and 
he  was  now  anxious  to  have  it  issued,  but  also  anxious 
that  it  should  receive  the  corrections  of  those  few  friends 
whose  criticism  he  valued,  and  to  whom  he  dared  entrust 
the  secret  of  its  authorship. 

“ Finding  no  better  conveyance,”  he  wrote  to  Newton 
on  the  26th  of  July,  “ I have  sent  you  the  eighth  chapter  ” 
- — there  were  ten  chapters  in  all,  but  the  last  two  formed 
three-sevenths  of  the  whole  work — “ by  Martin,  the 
carrier.  It  was  delivered  to  his  own  hands  yesterday. 


‘ A THIRD  LETTER  FOR  TOLERATION.’  239 

I would  beg  you,  if  you  have  so  much  leisure,  to  read, 
correct,  censure,  and  send  it  back  by  the  same  hand  this 
week ; else  I fear  the  press  will  stay.  I deferred  it  so 
long  in  hopes  to  send  all  together  by  a safe  hand.  Missing 
that,  I have  ventured  but  one  chapter  at  once.  As  soon 
as  this  comes  back  I will  send  the  next.”1 

There  is  nothing  to  show  whether  Newton  or  some 
other  friendly  critic  or  the  printer  was  at  fault ; but  the 
press  was  stayed  till  long  after  Locke  had  gone  back  to 
Oates.  “ I beg,”  he  said,  in  a letter  to  Clarke,  on  the 
2nd  of  November,  “ that  you  would  send  for  Mr.  Awnsham 
Churchill” — the  publisher — (to  whom  I have  writ  four 
or  five  times  to  desire  him  to  send  me  the  sheets  which 
have  been  printed  since  I came  to  town,  but  cannot 
receive  a word  from  him),  and  tell  him  I would  by  no 
means  have  him  publish  it  till  I have  perused  all  the 
remaining  sheets,  which  I would  have  him  send  to  me. 
I desire  you  would  give  yourself  this  trouble  ; for  I am 
concerned  to  see  it  before  it  go  abroad.”2  The  book 
was  published,  however,  before  the  end  of  the  month. 
“ I must  beg  you,”  Locke  then  wrote  to  the  same  friend, 
“ to  send  again  for  Mr.  Churchill,  and  let  him  write  down 
from  you  these  names — Ashley,  Newton,  Somers,  Popple, 
Le  Clerc,  Furly,  Wright,  Freke,  and  Firmin.”  (These 
words  were  also  written,  hut  erased — “ and  Treby  and 
Ker ; these  two  last,  if  you  think  fit,  for  I am  in  some 
doubt  whether  it  be  prudent  or  no.”)  “ But  to  none  of 

them  as  from  me  : to  yourself  more  than  one,  if  you 
please  : hither  two  to  be  sent.  Bid  him  forthwith  bring 
in  all  the  remainder  of  the  copy  to  you.”3 

1 Brewster,  vol.  Ii. , p.  461  ; Locke  to  Newton,  26  July,  1692. 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  2 Nov.,  1692. 

3 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  28  Nov.,  1692. 


240 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XU, 


The  list  of  the  persons  to  whom  presentation-copies  of 
the  ‘ Third  Letter  for  Toleration  ’ were  to  be  anonymously 
sent  is  interesting.  Most  of  the  names  are  familiar  to  ns. 
John  Freke,  a great  friend  of  Clarke’s  as  well  as  Locke’s, 
was  a barrister  who  had  been  called  at  the  Middle  Temple 
on  the  same  day  in  1676  as  Sir  John  Somers,  and  had 
maintained  acquaintance  with  him  ever  since.  Thomas 
Finnin  was  the  excellent  Unitarian  merchant  at  whose 
house  Locke  had  met  Tillotson  and  so  many  other  lati- 
tudinarian  clergymen  some  twenty  years  before.  Firmin 
wras  now  an  old  man,  hut  not  weary  of  good  work. 

Besides  renewing  old  friendships  while  he  was  in 
London — where  he  still  occupied  his  chambers  in  Dorset 
court,  though  he  now  had  a Mr.  Pawling  for  landlord 
instead  of  Mrs.  Smithsby  for  landlady1 — Locke  began  a 
new  one,  from  which  he  derived  much  satisfaction  during 
the  next  six  years. 

On  his  arrival  in  town  he  had  found  waiting  for  him  at 
his  bookseller’s  a volume  entitled  ‘ Diopterica  Nova,’  and 
further  described  on  the  title-page  as“  a treatise  of  diop- 
terics,  wherein  the  various  effects  and  appearances  of 
spherical  glasses,  both  convex  and  concave,  single  and 
compound,  in  telescopes  and  microscopes,  together  with 
their  usefulness  in  many  concerns  of  human  life,  are 
explained.” 

The  author  was  'William  Molyneux,  a talented  Irish- 
man, wdio,  born  near  Dublin  on  the  17th  of  April,  1656, 
had  been  educated  at  Trinity  College,  and  had  come  over 
to  study  law  at  the  Middle  Temple  between  1675  and 
1678,  though  he  appears  never  to  have  intended  to  follow 

1 This  appears  from  the  addresses  of  many  of  the  letters  sent  to  him. 
From  this  time  Pawling  is  frequently  referred  to  as  a sort  of  agent,  attend- 
ing to  small  matters  of  business  for  him  while  he  was  at  Oates. 


if*,]  FBIENDSHIP  WITH  WILLIAM  MOLYNEUX.  241 

this  as  a profession.  He  inherited  an  ample  fortune,  and 
devoted  himself  during  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  short 
life  to  scientific  pursuits,  and  especially  to  the  practical 
study  of  optics  and  astronomy  and  the  construction  of 
telescopes.  Having  settled  down  in  Dublin,  he  founded 
the  Philosophical  Society  in  that  city,  under  the  guidance 
of  Sir  William  Petty,  in  1683.  In  1684  he  was  appointed 
by  the  Duke  of  Ormond  surveyor-general  of  works  and 
buildings  and  chief  engineer  under  the  Irish  government ; 
but  in  1689  the  troubles  to  which  he  as  a protestant  was 
exposed  during  the  catholic  opposition  to  William  the 
Third  caused  him  to  take  shelter  in  England,  and  through- 
out three  years  to  reside  partly  in  Chester  and  partly 
in  London.  The  time  that  intervened  before  he  went 
back  to  Ireland,  to  represent  Dublin  in  the  Irish  parlia- 
ment, was  spent  chiefly  in  producing  his  ‘ Diopterica 
Nova.’ 

“ To  none  do  we  owe  for  a greater  advancement  in 
this  part  of  philosophy,”  he  said,  speaking  of  logic,  in  the 
dedication  of  this  book,  ££  than  to  the  incomparable  Mr. 
Locke,  who,  in  his  £ Essay  of  Human  Understanding,’ 
hath  rectified  more  received  mistakes,  and  delivered  more 
profound  truths,  established  on  experience  and  observa- 
tion, for  the  direction  of  man’s  mind  in  the  prosecution 
of  knowledge,  which  I think  may  be  properly  termed 
logic,  than  are  to  be  met  with  in  all  the  volumes  of  the 
ancients.  He  has  clearly  overthrown  all  those  meta- 
physical whimsies  which  infected  men’s  brains  with  a 
spice  of  madness,  whereby  they  feigned  a knowledge 
where  they  had  none  by  making  a noise  with  sounds 
without  clear  and  distinct  significations.” 

Locke  welcomed  the  unlooked-for  compliment,  and 
wrote  a graceful  acknowledgment  of  it.  ££  You  have 
Vol.  II. — 16 


242 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


made  great  advances  of  friendship  towards  me,”  he  said, 
“ and  yon  see  they  are  not  lost  upon  me.”1  “ 1 cannot 

easily  tell  yon,”  Molyneux  wrote  in  answer  to  this  letter, 
“how  grateful  it  was  to  me,  having  the  highest  esteem 
for  him  that  sent  it  from  the  first  moment  that  I was  so 
happy  as  to  see  any  of  his  writings.  That  yon  may  judge 
of  my  sincerity  by  my  open  heart,  I will  plainly  confess 
to  you  that  I have  not  in  my  life  read  any  book  with  more 
satisfaction  than  your  ‘ Essay  ; ’ and  I have  endeavoured 
with  great  success  to  recommend  it  to  the  consideration 
of  the  ingenious  in  this  place.”  2 “You  must  expect,” 
Locke  promptly  replied,  “to  have  me  live  with  you 
hereafter,  with  all  the  liberty  and  assurance  of  a settled 
friendship.  Eor,  meeting  with  but  few  men  in  the  world 
whose  acquaintance  I find  much  reason  to  covet,  I make 
more  than  ordinary  haste  into  the  familiarity  of  a rational 
inquirer  after  and  lover  of  truth,  whenever  I can  light  on 
any  such.  There  are  beauties  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of 
the  body,  that  take  and  prevail  at  first  sight ; and,  wher- 
ever I have  met  with  this,  I have  readily  surrendered 
myself,  and  have  never  yet  been  deceived  in  my  expecta- 
tion. Wonder  not,  therefore,  if,  having  been  thus  wrought 
on,  I begin  to  converse  with  you  with  much  freedom.”3 
Thus  arose  a friendship  of  which  we  shall  see  many  proofs 
in  future  pages. 

Locke’s  introduction  to  William  Molyneux  also  gave 
some  fresh  life  to  an  older  friendship.  Eight  years 
before  this  time  he  had  met  at  Leyden  William  Moly- 
neux’s  brother  Thomas,  then  studying  medicine  in  the 
great  Dutch  university.  In  his  first  letter  to  his  new 


1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  1 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  16  July,  1692. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  3 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  27  Aug.,  1692. 

* ibid.,  p.  7 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  20  Sept.,  1692. 


ifl’o]  THOMAS  MOLYNEUX  AND  SYDENHAM.  243 

friend,  Locke  asked  whether  the  person  of  the  same  name 
whom  he  had  known  in  Holland  was  related  to  him,  and 
the  inquiry  provoked  a letter  from  Thomas  Molyneux 
himself,  now  a physician  practising  in  Dublin.  “ I reckon 
it,”  wrote  this  Dr.  Molyneux,  “ amongst  the  most  fortu- 
nate accidents  of  my  life  my  so  luckily  getting  into  your 
conversation,  which  was  so  candid,  diverting  and  in- 
structive, that  I still  reap  the  benefit  of  it.  Some  years 
after  I left  you  in  Holland  I contracted  no  small  intimacy 
with  Dr.  Sydenham,  on  the  account  of  having  been  known 
to  you,  his  much  esteemed  friend,  and  I found  him  so 
accurate  an  observer  of  diseases,  so  thoroughly  skilled  in 
all  useful  knowledge  of  his  profession,  and  withal  so 
communicative,  that  his  acquaintance  was  a very  great 
advantage  to  me ; and  all  this  I chiefly  owe  to  you.”  1 
“ That  which  I always  thought  of  Dr.  Sydenham 
living,”  Locke  said  in  his  reply  to  this  letter,  “ I find 
the  world  allows  him  now  he  is  dead,  and  that  he  de- 
served all  that  you  say  of  him.  I hope  the  age  has  many 
who  will  follow  his  example,  and,  by  the  way  of  accurate 
practical  observation,  which  he  has  so  happily  begun, 
enlarge  the  history  of  diseases,  and  improve  the  art  or 
physic,  and  not,  by  speculative  hypotheses,  fill  the  world 
with  useless  though  pleasing  visions.”  2 

“ I wonder,”  he  wrote  to  this  correspondent,  in  a subse- 
quent letter  which  is  interesting  in  more  ways  than  one. 
“ that,  after  the  pattern  Dr.  Sydenham  has  set  them  of  a 
better  way,  men  should  return  again  to  the  romance  way 
of  physic.  But  I see  it  is  easier  and  more  natural  for 
men  to  build  castles  in  the  air  of  their  own  than  to  survey 
well  those  that  are  to  be  found  standing.  Nicely  to 

1 ! Familiar  Letters,’  p.  277  ; Thomas  Molyneux  to  Locke,  27  Aug.,  1692. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  278;  Locke  to  Thomas  Molyneux,  1 Nov.,  1692.  < 


244 


IN  EETIEEMENT  : WOEK  AS  AN  AUTHOE. 


[CHAP.  XII. 


observe  the  history  of  diseases  in  all  their  changes  and 
circumstances  is  a work  of  time,  accurateness,  attention, 
and  judgment,  and  wherein,  if  men  through  prepossession 
or  obstinacy  mistake,  they  may  be  convinced  of  their 
error  by  unerring  nature  and  matter  of  fact,  which  leaves 
less  room  for  the  subtlety  and  dispute  of  words  which 
serves  very  much  instead  of  knowledge  in  the  learned 
world,  where  metliinks  wit  and  invention  has  much  the 
preference  to  truth.  Upon  such  grounds  as  on  the 
established  history  of  diseases  hypotheses  might  with 
less  danger  be  erected,  which  I think  so  far  useful  as 
they  serve  as  an  art  of  memory  to  direct  the  physician  in 
particular  cases,  but  not  to  be  relied  on  as  foundations 
of  reasoning  or  verities  to  be  contended  for ; they  being,  I 
think  I may  say,  all  of  them  suppositions  taken  up  gratis, 
and  will  so  remain  till  we  can  discover  how  the  natural 
functions  of  the  body  are  performed,  and  by  what  altera- 
tions of  the  humours  or  defects  in  the  parts  they  are 
hindered  or  disordered.  To  which  purpose  I fear  the 
Galenists’  sour  humours,  or  the  chymists’  sal,  sulphur, 
and  mercury,  or  the  late  prevailing  invention  of  acid  and 
alkali,  or  whatever  hereafter  shall  be  substituted  to  these 
with  new  applause,  will  upon  examination  be  found  to  be 
but  so  many  learned  empty  sounds,  with  no  precise  deter- 
minate signification.  What  we  know  of  the  works  of 
nature,  especially  in  the  constitution  of  health  and  the 
operations  of  our  own  bodies,  is  only  by  the  sensible 
effects,  but  not  by  any  certainty  we  can  have  of  the  tools 
she  uses  or  the  ways  she  works  by;  so  that  there  is 
nothing  left  for  a physician  to  do  but  to  observe  well,  and 
so,  by  analogy,  argue  to  like  cases,  and  thence  make  to 
himself  rules  of  practice.  And  he  that  is  this  way  most 
sagacious  will,  I imagine,  make  the  best  physician,  though, 


Jfeb.]  PRAISE  OF  SYDENHAM’S  METHOD.  245 

subservient  to  this  end,  be  should  entertain  distinct 
hypotheses  * concerning  distinct  species  of  diseases  that 
were  inconsistent  one  with  another,  they  being  made 
use  of  in  those  several  sorts  of  diseases  but  as  distinct 
arts  of  memory  in  those  cases.  And  I the  rather  say 
this  that  they  might  be  relied  on  only  as  artificial  helps 
to  a physician,  and  not  as  philosophical  truths  to  a 
naturalist.  I hoped  the  way  of  treating  of  diseases  which 
with  so  much  approbation  Dr.  Sydenham  had  introduced 
into  the  world  would  have  beaten  the  other  out,  and 
turned  men  from  visions  and  wrangling  to  observation 
and  endeavouring  after  settled  practices  in  more  diseases, 
such  as  I think  he  has  given  to  us  in  some.  If  my  zeal 
for  the  saving  men’s  lives  and  preserving  their  health, 
which  is  infinitely  to  be  preferred  to  any  speculations 
never  so  fine  in  physic,  has  carried  me  too  far,  you  will 
excuse  it  in  one  who  wishes  well  to  the  practice  of  physic, 
though  he  meddles  not  with  it.”  1 

That  diversion  from  the  metaphysical,  theological  and 
political  studies  that  now  so  largely  occupied  Locke’s 
attention,  to  do  honour  to  the  worthiest  of  his  early 
friends  and  to  tell  a young  doctor  very  modestly,  but  very 
plainly,  wdiat  was  the  right  way  for  him  to  follow  in  his 
profession,  is  surely  not  only  quite  excusable  hut  alto- 
gether delightful. 

Of  the  more  prosaic  business  that  claimed  Locke’s 
attention  while  he  was  in  London,  we  have  curious  illus- 
tration in  a letter  that  he  wrote  to  Clarke  soon  after  his 
return  to  Oates  in  the  autumn  of  1692.  He  had  lent 
some  money  to  a Mrs.  Lockhart — with  whose  name  we 
have  already  met,  and  who  was  his  and  Lady  Masham’s 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  284  ; Locke  to  Thomas  Molyneux,  20  Jan., 
1692-8. 


246 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


and  Benjamin  Furly’s  friend,  as  well  as  Clarke’s — on  the 
security  of  her  diamonds  ; and,  Mrs.  Lockhart  having 
lodged  with  him  jewels  of  more  value  than  the  loan,  it 
appears  that  he  had,  in  opposition  to  Clarke’s  advice, 
insisted  on  her  taking  some  of  them  hack,  and  also  that 
he  was  willing  to  let  her  make  occasional  use,  when  she 
was  anxious  to  have  all  her  finery  about  her,  of  those 
which  he  did  hold.  “ Had  my  desire  to  you  in  my  note,” 
he  wrote  from  Oates  in  October,  “ been  with  other  design 
than  it  was,  I should  with  satisfaction  have  submitted  to 
your  judgment  in  the  affair.  But  the  reason  why  I 
resolved  to  give  hack  some  of  the  stones  being  only 
because  I would  not  be  clogged  with  more  than  was 
necessary  for  sufficient  security,  wdiat  was  enough  for 
that  was  all  I in  effect  desired.  I think  it  necessary  she 
should,  write  a letter  to  me  to  thank  me  that  I have 
consented  to  her  request  to  let  them  be  deposited  in  Mr. 
Pawling’s  hands  for  her  to  have  them  to  use  at  Christmas, 
if  she  has  occasion,  and  that  if  they  miscarry  before  they 
be  restored  to  me  again,  it  must  be  at  her  adventure  and 
loss,  they  being  deposited  there  at  her  request  and  for  her 
convenience.  Let  her  seal  and  deliver  that  letter  to  you, 
which  I desire  you  to  keep  ; but  you  must  make  her 
write  it  whilst  you  are  with  her  or  else  it  will  not  be 
done.”  1 

From  the  same  letter  we  learn  that,  as  Mrs.  Clarke  was 
expecting  another  baby,  it  had  been  arranged  that  little 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  28  Oct.,  1692.  Another 
paragraph  in  this  letter  gives  us  the  first  intimation  we  have  that  a kinsman 
of  Locke's  was  now  settled  in  London  as  an  attorney.  “ When  the  mort- 
gage is  executed  by  Mrs.  Lockhart,  my  cousin  Bonville  need  not  be  there. 
You  may  by  a penny  post  letter  send  for  him  to  your  lodging  when  you 
please,  and  then  he  may  there  execute  both  the  mortgage  and  the  declaration 
of  trust  at  the  same  time  without  troubling  them.” 


1692.  "I 
■®t.  60. J 


BETTY  CLARKE. 


247 


Betty  Clarke,  Locke’s  special  friend,  should  go  down  on  a 
visit  to  Oates.  “ Present  my  humble  service  to  madam,” 
Locke  wrote  on  Friday,  “ to  whom  I heartily  wish  a short 
and  safe  hour.  I shall  take  care  to  have  the  coach  sent 
for  my  wife  to-morrow.” 

“ My  wife  came  hither  safe  and  well  on  Saturday,”  he 
wrote  again  on  the  following  Monday,  “ and  you  had 
completed  the  kindness  if  you  yourself  had  come  with 
her.  But  you  could  not  part,  it  seems,  with  my  lord 
mayor’s  show  for  your  poor  country  friends  and  a sermon 
to  hoot.  This  I tell  madam  is  the  reason  why  you  staid 
in  town,  though  I doubt  not  but  you  have  business 
enough  ; but  yet  I know  you  will  not  blame  me  that  I 
desire  to  see  you.  My  wife  I shall  take  care  of  as  her 
mother  desires ; and  I think  she  need  be  in  no  pain  about 
her  whilst  she  is  here,  where  everybody  is  so  disposed  to 
take  care  and  make  much  of  her,  as  she  very  well  deserves. 
But,  my  lady  intending  to  write  to  Mrs.  Clarke  herself, 
I shall  say  no  more  on  that  subject.”  1 

“ My  wife  and  I and  all  here- — except  Mrs.  Cudworth, 
who  is  also  much  mended — are  well,  and,  according  to 
our  respective  duties,  salute  you,”  he  wrote  again  on 
Wednesday.  “ I cannot  let  Sir  Francis  come  to  town 
without  telling  you  this,  though  I have  very  little  else  to 
say,  unless  it  be  to  thank  you  for  your  care  and  trouble 
in  my  affairs ; and  that  would  furnish  me  with  matter 
enough  for  more  than  one  letter.”  2 

Locke’s  next  letter  to  Clarke  referred  to  a subject  of 
some  importance  to  one  of  his  friends,  at  any  rate.  “I 
expect  every  day  several  books  concerning  the  Inquisition, 
writ  by  Mr.  Limborch,”  he  said  in  it.  “Amongst  the  rest 

1 Additional  'MSS.,  no.  4290 ; Locke  to  Clarke,  31  Oct.,  1692. 

2 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  2 Nov.,  1692. 


248 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


there  is  one  for  the  bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells” — Dr. 
Bichard  Kidder — “ with  a letter  to  him.  I have  ordered 
Mr.  Pawling  to  put  what  is  for  that  worthy  bishop  into 
your  hands  to  be  delivered  him  by  you  in  my  stead  and 
with  my  service.  Pray  excuse  my  not  having  waited 
upon  him  as  I have  a long  time  desired  and  hope  ere 
long  I shall  have  the  opportunity  to  do  ; though  it  be  one 
of  the  inconveniences  I suffer  from  my  ill  lungs,  that  they 
usually  drive  me  out  of  town  when  most  of  my  friends, 
and  those  whom  I would  wish  to  be  near,  are  in  it.  The 
books  were  shipped  in  Holland  above  a fortnight  gone  ; 
so  that  I hope  they  may  be  in  London  before  this.”  1 

“ At  last,”  Limborch  had  written  to  Locke,  “ Wetstein 
has  shipped  the  volumes  that  were  to  go  to  England. 
They  were  sent  to  Botterdam  the  day  before  yesterday, 
so  that,  if  the  vessel  has  fair  weather,  I hope  they  will 
reach  you  in  a few  days  from  now.  The  parcel  is  ad- 
dressed to  you  and  contains  five  copies — four  of  them 
unbound,  as  Wetstein  was  afraid  that  your  strict  English 
law  would  not  permit  him  to  send  so  many  bound  books. 
Please  apologise  to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  for  my  seeming 
lack  of  courtesy  in  sending  him  an  unbound  copy  The 
bound  one,  enclosed  in  a box,  is  intended  for  the  arch- 
bishop. The  letters  accompanying  the  others  will  show 
you  for  whom  they  are  intended.  The  one  without  a 
letter  is  for  yourself:  you  will  understand  why  I send  it 
unbound.  Now  I wait  for  your  candid  opinion  about  the 
book : whatever  faults  you  find  in  it  tell  me  honestly,  for 
the  sake  of  our  friendship.”  2 

From  his  letter  to  Clarke  it  would  seem  that,  his  cough 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  11  Nov.,  1692. 

2 Lord  King  (ed.  1830),  vol.  ii. , p.  327  ; Limborch  to  Locke,  [28  Oct.J 
7 Nov.,  1692. 


ifgb.]  LIMBOECH’s  * HISTOEIA  INQUISITIONIS.*  249 

being  then  very  troublesome  and  bis  breathing  very  bad, 
Locke  had  not  intended  to  go  to  town  and  execute  Lim- 
borch’s  commissions  in  person ; but  he  went  on  the  19th 
of  November  and  returned  on  the  26th.  “As  soon  as  I 
heard  of  the  arrival  of  your  books,”  he  wrote  to  Limborch 
on  the  28th,  “ I hurried  to  London  with  such  haste  as  I 
could  manage.  I called  first  on  the  archbishop,  who  was 
very  much  obliged  and  pleased,  and  said  that,  though  he 
is  just  now  very  much  occupied  with  pressing  business, 
he  was  not  able  to  keep  himself  from  looking  into  your 
work,  and  had  hurriedly  read  a large  part  of  it  with  great 
pleasure  ; but  you  will  better  understand  his  opinion  and 
praise  of  it  from  the  letter  wdiich  he  promised  to  write  to 
you.  The  bishop  of  Salisbury  said  much  the  same,  and 
that,  while  heartily  thanking  you  at  once,  he  should  write 
to  you  as  soon  as  he  had  read  it  through,  adding  that  you 
appeared  to  have  set  forth  the  history  of  the  Inquisition 
far  more  clearly  and  correctly  than  he  could  have  ex- 
pected. The  Earl  of  Pembroke,  among  much  praise  of 
you,  bade  me  assure  you  of  his  thanks,  in  anticipation  of 
his  doing  so  with  his  own  hand.  The  bishop  of  Bath  and 
Wells  was  not  at  home  when  I called,  and  during  my 
short  stay  I could  not  find  an  opportunity  of  seeing  him ; 
but  your  book  will  reach  him  safely,  for  I have  asked  our 
friend  Mr.  Clarke  to  deliver  it  to  him  and  to  apologise  for 
its  being  unbound,  as  I have  done  to  the  others.”  1 

Then  follow  some  sentences  on  a subject  that  Locke, 
though  not  fond  of  writing  about  himself,  had  to  speak 
of  now  very  frequently.  “Perhaps  you  will  wonder  that 
that  I,  who  owe  you  prompt  thanks  on  my  own  account, 
besides  being  charged  with  all  these  messages,  have  de- 
layed writing  to  you  until  my  return  to  the  country. 

A ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  341  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  28  Nov.,  1692. 


250  IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap.  XU. 

The  fact  is  that,  though  I was  tolerably  well  when  I went 
to  town,  after  a single  day’s  stay  there  I fell  so  ill  that  I 
could  hardly  breathe,  and  as  I was  getting  worse  and 
worse  I was  forced  to  come  away,  leaving  undone  a great 
deal  that  I ought  to  have  attended  to.  I came  hack  last 
Saturday,  bringing  my  copy  of  your  book  with  me,  and, 
thanks  to  you,  Lady  Masham  and  I promise  ourselves 
some  Attic  nights  this  winter.” 

“ I got  safe  hither,  I thank  God,”  Locke  wrote  on  the 
same  day  to  Clarke  ; “ well  I cannot  say  I yet  am,  under 
so  troublesome  a cough  as  I have,  but  my  lungs  move 
easier  than  they  did.  My  wife’s  shoes  are  too  little. 
We  thought  at  first  to  send  them  back,  but,  upon  con- 
sideration that  it  will  be  longer  much  before  another  pair 
can  come  from  London,  and  that  the  sending  one  and 
t’other  pair  will  cost  almost  the  price  of  a pair  of  shoes, 
we  think  to  send  one  of  these  new  ones  to-day  to  Bishop 
Stortford,  and  hope  on  Friday  to  have  a pair  that  will  fit 
her.  Amongst  the  many  things  I left  undone  and  forgot 
at  my  coming  away,  you  will  not  think  it  strange  that  I 
should  let  slip  the  Cheddar  cheese  at  Mr.  Pawling’ s. 
There  it  is,  and  there  pray  dispose  of  it  as  you  think  fit. 
I expected  to  hear  from  you  to-day  how  madam  is  and 
whether  the  medicine  did  any  good,  but  by  your  silence  I 
conclude  all  goes  well,  and  hope  I shall  not  find  myself 
deceived  in  your  next.  My  lady,  my  wife,  and  all  here 
are  well,  give  them  service  to  madam  and  you,  and  wish 
you  joy  of  the  lusty  boy.”  1 

Clarke  disposed  of  the  Cheddar  cheese,  which  had  pro- 
bably been  sent  up  to  Locke  by  some  of  his  kinsfolk  in 
Somersetshire,  or  may  have  been  a present  from  Clarke 
himself,  by  forwarding  it  to  Oates.  “ The  cheese  is  come 
1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  28  Nov.,  1692. 


SUEBOUNDINGS  AT  OATES. 


251 


Mt.  60.  J 

safe  hither,  and  my  lady  desires  me  to  return  you  her 
thanks,”  Locke  wrote  in  his  nest  letter.  “ She  intends 
to  do  it  suddenly  herself;  but  the  news  to-day  of  the 
death  of  a niece,  and  the  short  stay  of  the  messenger  that 
carries  back  our  letters,  makes  her  desire  me  to  excuse  it 
by  this  post.”  1 

Locke’s  letters  to  Clarke  abound  in  homely  details  that 
help  us  to  a very  clear  understanding  of  his  every-day  life 
at  Oates.  “ I had  designed  to  draw  you  hither  if  you 
have  any  holidays,”  he  wrote  just  before  Christmas  day  in 
this  year.  “ I long  to  talk  with  you,  and  mightily  desire 
you  should  have  a little  refreshment  in  the  air.  But  I 
fear  I shall  make  you  an  ill  compliment  to  invite  you  to  a 
bedfellow,  and  such  an  one  as  I am.  If  you  can  dispense 
with  that,  pray  come.  You  will  be  to  everybody  very  wel- 
come, I know,  and  would  be  desired  if  it  could  be  a civil 
invitation.  The  house  will  he  so  full  when  Mr.  Cudworth 
comes  ” — this  was  apparently  Lady  Masham’s  brother, 
to  whom  Locke  had  written  two  years  before,  and  now  re- 
turned from  India — “ who  was  expected  with  Mr.  Andrews, 
and  is  looked  for  every  day,  that  Mrs.  Masham  is  fain  to 
lie  in  a servant’s  chamber  and  bed  in  the  passage  to  the 
nursery.”  2 

That  invitation  seems  not  to  have  been  accepted,  and  it 
was  renewed  in  the  following  spring.  “ I am  extremely 
troubled,”  Locke  wrote  then,  “that  your  cold  sticks  so 
upon  you.  Pray  drink  water,  and  carefully,  no  wine,  and 
be  as  little  abroad  in  the  evenings  as  you  can.  I know 
not  what  else  to  say  to  you  unless  you  will  come  hither  a 
little  while  for  some  country  air.  If  your  cold  increases 
upon  you,  quit  all  business  that  you  may  serve  your 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  9 Dec.,  1692. 

2 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  23  Dec.,  1692. 


252 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


country  ; for,  wdien  you  are  sick  or  worn,  you  will  not  be 
able  to  serve  it.  Therefore,  pray  come  hither.  We  will 
make  very  much  of  you.  My  lady  would  take  it  very 
kindly,  and  says  this  is  a sure  place  to  get  rid  of  colds. 
My  service  to  my  wife.”1 

Little  Betty  had  gone  home  after  spending  three  or 
four  months  with  the  big  “husband,”  whom,  somewhat 
before  the  world  had  learnt  to  recognise  his  worth  as  one 
of  its  greatest  teachers,  she  had  found  to  be  the  kindest 
of  playmates. 

There  were  other  hospitable  homes  open  to  Locke,  and 
the  Earl  of  Monmouth  was  not  the  only  friend  who,  save 
for  the  benefit  that  it  caused  to  his  health,  grudged  his 
so  long  and  frequent  absences  from  London.  Monmouth 
had  written  to  him  on  the  day  when,  in  spite  of  the  raw 
November  weather,  he  was  riding  up  to  London  to  dis- 
tribute Limborch’s  presentation  copies  of  the  ‘ Historia 
Inquisitionis.’  “I  am  told,”  he  then  said,  “that  so 
many  of  your  friends  have  sent  you  word  how  desirous 
they  are  you  should  come  to  town,  that  I am  resolved  I 
will  not  be  of  the  number,  concluding  that  your  health 
obliges  you  to  stay  in  the  country.  I am  afraid  of  men- 
tioning Parson’s  Green  to  you,  for  I find  you  would  be 
importuned,  if  so  near,  to  come  to  town,  and  our  innocent 
air  would  be  accused  of  the  ill  effects  of  London  smoke. 
If  your  acquaintances  would  make  you  visits,  and  expect 
no  returns,  I would  do  all  in  my  power  to  tempt  you  to 
a lady,  who  would  take  all  possible  care  of  you.  She  has 
prepared  you  a very  warm  room,  and  if  you  take  the 
resolution,  which  she  thinks  you  are  obliged  to  by  your 
promise,  you  must  send  me  word  of  it ; for,  as  your 
physician,  you  must  refuse  none  of  her  prescriptions  ; and 
1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290 ; Locke  to  Clarke,  6 March,  1692-3. 


1(1P2.  I 
■J5t.  60.J 


THE  EARL  OF  MONMOUTH. 


253 


she  will  not  allow  yon  to  come  up  but  in  a glass  coach. 
This  is  no  compliment ; and  you  can  gain  no  admittance 
except  my  coach  brings  you,  which  I can  send  without 
the  least  inconvenience.  But  after  all,  I desire  you  not  to 
venture  coming  towards  us  if  it  may  he  prejudicial  to  your 
health.  If  you  stay  in  the  country,  I will  send  you  now 
and  then  a news  letter.  Our  revolving  government  always 
affords  us  something  new  every  three  or  four  months ; 
but  what  would  be  most  new  and  strange  would  be  to 
see  it  do  anything  that  were  really  for  its  interest.  There 
seems  a propensity  towards  something  like  it.  I fear 
their  sullen  and  duller  heads  will  not  allow  it.  Mons. 
Blanquet  tells  us  the  king  is  grown  in  love  with  English- 
men and  whigs : it  is  true,  he  smiles  and  talks  with  us, 
hut  Messrs.  Seymour  and  Trevor  come  up  the  back 
stairs.”  Sir  John  Trevor,  it  will  he  remembered,  was  the 
Earl  of  Carmarthen’s  profligate  friend  and  chief  agent  in 
corrupting  the  house  of  commons,  of  which  he  was  now 
speaker.  Sir  Edward  Seymour,  a man  about  as  worth- 
less, had  lately  been  made  a commissioner  of  the  treasury. 
“I  will  engage  no  further  in  politics,”  the  earl  added, 
after  some  more  complaint  about  the  disorganised  con- 
dition of  public  affairs,  “ but,  being  sick,  am  going,  by 
way  of  physic,  to  eat  a good  supper  and  drink  your  health 
in  a glass  or  two  of  my  reviving  wine.”1 

Feeling  that  he  could  do  nothing  thus  to  serve  his 
country,  Locke  appears  to  have  concerned  himself  very 
little  about  the  political  movements  of  this  time. 


Though  the  first  letter  written  by  Locke  to  Edward 
Clarke,  which  has  come  down  to  us  in  its  original  shape, 

1 Lord  King,  p.  236;  Monmouth  to  Locke,  19  Nov.,  1692. 


254 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XU. 


is  dated  1692,  we  have  the  substance  of  many  others, 
some  of  which  were  written  at  least  eight  years  earlier. 
During  the  first  portion  of  his  stay  in  Holland  Locke  had 
corresponded  much  with  Clarke,  with  the  special  object 
of  assisting  him  in  the  bringing-up  of  his  children.  His 
notes  for  these  letters  he  appears  to  have  kept  by  him  with 
the  thought  of  some  day  working  them  up  into  a treatise 
on  education,  and  he  was  at  last  induced,  not  to  do  this, 
but  to  string  them  together  into  a volume,  by  the  solici- 
tation of  several  friends,  among  others  his  new  friend 
William  Molyneux. 

“My  brother  has  sometimes  told  me,”  wrote  Molyneux, 
“ that  whilst  he  had  the  happiness  of  your  acquaintance 
at  Leyden  you  were  upon  a work  on  the  method  of  learn- 
ing, and  that,  too,  at  the  request  of  a tender  father  for 
the  use  of  his  only  son.  Wherefore,  good  sir,  let  me 
most  earnestly  entreat  you  by  no  means  to  lay  aside  this 
infinitely  useful  work  till  you  have  finished  it,  for  ’twill 
be  of  vast  advantage  to  all  mankind,  as  well  as  particu- 
larly to  me,  your  entire  friend.  There  could  be  nothing 
more  acceptable  to  me  than  the  hopes  thereof.  I have  but 
one  child,  who  is  now  nigh  four  years  old  and  promises 
well.  His  mother  left  him  to  me  very  young” — she  had 
died  at  Chester  in  1689 — “and  my  affections,  I must 
confess,  are  strongly  placed  on  him.  It  has  pleased  God, 
by  the  liberal  provisions  of  our  ancestors,  to  free  me  from 
the  toiling  cares  of  providing  a fortune  for  him,  so  that 
my  whole  study  shall  be  to  layup  a treasure  of  knowledge 
in  his  mind,  for  his  happiness  both  in  this  life  and  the 
next.” 

That  pathetic  request  was  answered  more  promptly 
than  Molyneux  could  have  hoped.  Three  weeks  after 
1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  34;  William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  2 March,  1692-3. 


it”oi).]  * some  thoughts  concerning  education.’  255 

receiving  it,  Locke  wrote  to  say  that  the  manuscript  had 
“gone  to  the  printer  at  his  instance.”  “ These  letters,  or 
at  least  some  of  them,  have  been  seen  by  some  of  my 
acquaintance  here,  who  would  needs  persuade  me  ’twould 
he  of  use  to  publish  them.  Your  impatience  to  see  them 
has  not,  I assure  you,  slackened  my  hand  or  kept  me  in 
suspense.  I know  not  yet  whether  I shall  set  my  name 
to  this  discourse,  and,  therefore,  shall  desire  you  to 
conceal  it.”1 

The  work  was  not  published  till  July,  1693,  but  Locke’s 
name,  though  not  on  the  title-page,  was  appended  to  the 
“ epistle  dedicatory,”  addressed  to  Edward  Clarke,  and 
dated  the  7th  of  March,  1692-3.  “These  ‘Thoughts 
concerning  Education,’  which  now  come  abroad  into  the 
world,”  he  then  wrote,  “ do  of  right  belong  to  you,  being 
written  several  years  since  for  your  sake,  and  are  no  other 
than  you  have  already  by  you  in  my  letters.  I have  so 
little  varied  anything,  but  only  the  order  of  what  was 
sent  to  you  at  different  times  and  on  several  occasions, 
that  the  reader  will  easily  find,  in  the  familiarity  and 
fashion  of  the  style,  that  they  were  rather  the  private 
conversation  of  two  friends  than  a discourse  designed  for 
public  view.  Those  whose  judgment  I defer  much  to, 
telling  me  that  this  rough  draft  of  mine  might  he  of  some 
use  if  made  more  public,  touched  upon  what  will  always 
he  very  prevalent  with  me.  For  I think  it  every  man’s 
indispensable  duty  to  do  all  the  service  he  can  to  his 
country,  and  I see  not  what  difference  he  puts  between 
himself  and  his  cattle  who  lives  without  that  thought. 
This  subject  is  of  so  great  concernment,  and  a right  way 
cf  education  is  of  so  general  advantage,  that  did  I find 
my  abilities  answer  my  wishes,  I should  not  have  needed 
1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  41 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  28  March,  1693. 


256 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


exhortations  or  importunities  from  others.  However,  the 
meanness  of  these  papers,  and  my  just  distrust  of  them, 
shall  not  keep  me,  by  the  shame  of  doing  so  little,  from 
contributing  my  mite,  when  there  is  no  more  required  of 
me  than  my  throwing  it  into  the  public  receptacle.  The 
early  corruption  of  youth  is  now  become  so  general  a 
complaint  that  he  cannot  he  thought  wholly  impertinent 
who  brings  the  consideration  of  this  matter  on  the  stage, 
and  offers  something  if  it  be  but  to  excite  others  or  afford 
matter  of  correction.  You  will,  however,  bear  me  witness 
that  the  method  here  proposed  has  had  no  ordinary  effects 
upon  a gentleman’s  son  it  was  not  designed  for.  I will 
not  say  the  good  temper  of  the  child  did  not  very  much 
contribute  to  it ; but  this  I think  you  and  the  parents 
are  satisfied  of,  that  a contrary  usage,  according  to  the 
ordinary  disciplining  of  children,  would  not  have  mended 
that  temper,  nor  have  brought  him  to  be  in  love  with 
his  book,  to  take  a pleasure  in  learning,  and  to  desire 
as  he  does  to  be  taught  more  than  those  about  him  think 
fit  always  to  teach  him.”  The  child  here  referred  to 
may  have  been  young  Frank  Masham,  whose  education 
Locke  was  now  superintending,  as  he  had  formerly  super- 
intended that  of  young  Anthony  Ashley,  that  of  young 
Arent  Furly,  and  probably  that  of  others  who  had  come 
in  his  way. 

Having  given  practical  study  to  the  subject  of  edu- 
cation all  through  his  life,  Locke  had  good  right  now 
to  propound  his  views  to  the  world.  And  notwith- 
standing some  blemishes  and  eccentricities,  his  plan  was 
a wonderfully  sensible  one.  Not  the  least  of  its  recom- 
mendations is  that  in  it  the  crafts  of  the  doctor  and 
the  teacher  were  combined.  We  have  seen  in  his 
own  case,  and  in  previous  pages  some  illustrations  have 


A^ebJ  ‘ SOME  THOUGHTS  CONCERNING  EDUCATION.’  257 

been  taken  from  this  treatise  of  bis  to  show,  bow  eager 
tbe  old  pedagogues  were  for  certain  sorts  of  intellectual 
training  ; but  physical  education  was  before  tbis  time 
almost  a thing  unknown.  Locke  bad  clear  notions  of  bis 
own,  which  be  advanced  very  boldly,  as  to  tbe  sort  of 
pedagogic  work  that  was  most  proper  for  duly  developing 
children’s  minds  ; but  be  was  yet  bolder  in  bis  insistance 
on  tbe  necessity  of  looking  after  their  bodies  if  their  minds 
were  to  be  trained  in  any  useful  way. 

“A  sound  mind  in  a sound  body,”  was  the  trite,  neglected  maxim  that 
Locke  preached,  in  his  own  eloquently  conversational  language.  “ He 
whose  mind  directs  not  wisely  will  never  take  the  right  way ; and  he  whose 
body  is  crazy  and  feeble  will  never  be  able  to  advance  in  it.”  “ I imagine 
the  minds  of  children  are  as  easily  turned  this  or  that  way  as  water  itself, 
and,  though  this  be  the  principal  part,  and  our  main  care  should  be  about 
the  inside,  yet  the  clay  cottage  is  not  to  be  neglected.”  1 

Therefore  he  began  by  propounding  some  very  homely  wisdom  about  the 
training  of  the  body.  “ Most  children’s  constitutions,”  he  said,  “ are  either 
spoilt  or  at  least  harmed  by  cockering  and  tenderness.  The  face,  when  we 
are  born,  is  no  less  tender  than  any  other  part  of  the  body.  ’Tis  use  alone 
hardens  it  and  makes  it  more  able  to  endure  the  cold.  And  therefore 
the  Scythian  philosopher  gave  a very  significant  answer  to  the  Athenian 
who  wondered  how  he  could  go  naked  in  frost  and  snow.  ‘ How,’  said  the 
Scythian,  ‘ can  you  endure  your  face  exposed  to  the  sharp  winter  air  ? ’ ‘ My 
face  is  used  to  it,’  said  the  Athenian.  ‘ Think  me  all  face,’  replied  the 
Scythian.  Our  bodies  will  endure  anything  that  from  the  beginning  they 
are  accustomed  to.”  2 

Locke  did  not  propose  that  English  children  should  be  made  to  run 
about  naked  ; but  he  wanted  them  to  have  their  bodies  so  hardened  that 
they  could  ward  off  the  assaults  of  variable  winds  and  weather,  which  are 
the  main  causes  of  disease.  He  objected  to  too  much  clothing.  He  recom- 
mended plenty  of  washing  and  bathing  in  cold  weather,  and  went  so  far  as 
to  suggest  that  the  child’s  shoes  should  be  so  thin  “ that  they  might  leak 
and  let  in  water  whenever  he  comes  near  it.”  “ Here,”  he  said,  “I  fear 


1 ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  §§  1,  2. 

2 Ibid.,  §§  4,  5, 

You.  II.— 17 


258  IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap.  XII 

I shall  have  the  mistress  and  maids  too  against  me  : one  will  think  it  too 
filthy,  and  the  other,  perhaps,  too  much  pains  to  make  clean  his  stockings. 
But  yet  truth  will  have  it  that  his  health  is  much  more  worth  than  all 
such  considerations,  and  ten  times  as  much  more.  I doubt  not  but,  if  a 
man  from  his  cradle  had  been  always  used  to  go  barefoot,  whilst  his  hands 
were  constantly  wrapped  up  in  mittens  and  covered  with  hand-shoes,  as  the 
Dutch  call  gloves — I doubt  not,  I say,  hut  such  a custom  would  make 
taking  wet  in  his  hands  as  dangerous  to  him  as  now  taking  wet  in  their  feet 
is  to  a great  many  others.”  “Another  thing  that  is  of  great  advantage  to 
every  one’s  health,  but  especially  to  children’s,”  he  said,  “ is  to  be  much  in 
the  open  air,  and  very  little  as  may  be  by  the  fire,  even  in  winter.  By  this 
he  will  accustom  himself  also  to  heat  and  cold,  shine  and  rain ; all  which  if 
a man’s  body  will  not  endure,  it  will  serve  him  to  very  little  purpose  in  this 
world.”  1 

Insisting  upon  loose  clothing — which  will  let  nature  “have  scope  to 
fashion  the  body  as  she  thinks  best,”  seeing  that  “ she  works,  of  herself,  a 
great  deal  better  and  exacter  than  we  can  direct  her” — Locke  insisted  yet 
more  on  simple  diet,  “ without  other  sauce  than  hunger.”  “ I impute  a great 
part  of  our  diseases  in  England,”  he  said,  “ to  our  eating  too  much  flesh 
and  too  little  bread.”  Plenty  of  sleep  and  early  rising  were  strongly 
recommended;  but  “ let  the  bed  be  hard,  and  rather  quilts  than  feathers  : 
hard  lodging  strengthens  the  parts,  whereas  being  buried  every  night  in 
feathers  melts  and  dissolves  the  body,  is  often  the  cause  of  weakness,  and 
the  forerunner  of  an  early  grave.”  Finally,  as  regards  training  of  the  body, 
Locke  laid  down  the  rule,  “ very  sacredly  to  be  observed,”  that  children 
©uglit  to  be  physicked  as  little  as  possible.  Plenty  of  fresh  air  and  cold 
water,  of  exercise  and  sleep,  good  food  and  well-ordered  habits  would  be 
better  for  them  than  “ the  ladies’  diet-drinks  or  apothecaries’  medicines,’'' 
than  “ the  busy-man  that  will  presently  fill  their  windows  with  gaily  pots 
and  their  stomachs  with  drugs.”  “ In  this  part  I hope  I shall  find  an  easy 
belief,”  he  said ; “ and  nobody  can  have  a pretence  to  doubt  the  advice  of 
one  who  has  spent  some  time  in  the  study  of  physic  when  he  counsels  you 
not  to  be  too  forward  in  making  use  of  physic  and  physicians.”  2 

Having  thus  pointed  out  the  ways  in  which  he  considered  that  the  body 
could  he  best  fitted  “ to  obey  and  execute  the  orders  of  the  mind,”  Locke 
proceeded  to  set  forth  his  views  as  to  the  ways  in  which  “ to  set  the  mind 


1 ‘Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  §§  7,  9. 

* Ibid.,  §§  11,  13,  14,  21,  22,  29. 


1«93.  I 

JEt.  60.  J 


PHYSICAL  AND  MORAL  TRAINING. 


259 


right,  that  on  all  occasions  it  may  he  disposed  to  consent  to  nothing  hut 
what  may  be  suitable  to  the  dignity  and  excellency  of  a rational  creature.”  1 
“ The  difference  to  be  found  in  the  manners  and  abilities  of  men  is  owing 
more  to  their  education  than  to  anything  else,”  Locke  urged,  and  he  com- 
plained bitterly  that  this  truth  was  so  much  neglected  in  his  day,  and  that 
no  effort  at  all  was  made  by  most  parents  to  train  their  children’s  minds 
when  most  tender  and  pliant ; that,  in  fact,  nearly  all  the  training  went  the 
other  way.  “ Parents,  being  wisely  ordained  by  nature  to  love  their  children, 
are  very  apt,  if  reason  watch  not  that  natural  affection  very  warily,  to  let  it 
run  into  fondness.  They  love  their  little  ones,  and  ’tis  their  duty  ; but  they 
often,  with  them,  cherish  their  faults  too.  They  must  not  be  crossed,  for- 
sooth ; they  must  be  permitted  to  have  their  wills  in  all  things  ; and,  they 
being  in  their  infancies  not  capable  of  great  vices,  their  parents  think  they 
may  safely  enough  indulge  their  little  irregularities  and  make  themselves 
sport  with  their  pretty  perverseness  which,  they  think,  well  enough  becomes 
that  innocent  age.  But  to  a fond  parent,  that  would  not  have  his  child 
corrected  for  a perverse  trick,  but  excused  it,  saying  it  was  a small  matter, 
Solon  very  well  replied,  ‘Ay,  but  custom  is  a great  one.’  ” “ By  humouring 

and  cockering  them  when  little,  parents  corrupt  the  principles  of  nature  in 
their  children,  and  wonder  afterwards  to  taste  the  bitter  waters  when  they 
themselves  have  poisoned  the  fountain.  When  their  children  are  grown 
up  and  these  ill  habits  with  them,  when  they  are  too  big  to  be  dandled  and 
their  parents  can  no  longer  make  use  of  them  as  playthings,  then  they  com- 
plain that  ‘ the  brats  are  untoward  and  perverse,’  then  they  are  offended  to 
see  them  wilful,  and  are  troubled  with  those  ill  humours  which  they  them- 
selves infused  and  fomented  in  them  : and  then,  perhaps  too  late,  would  be 
glad  to  get  out  those  which  their  own  bands  have  planted,  and  which  now 
have  taken  too  deep  root  to  be  easily  extirpated.”  “ Having  made  them  ill 
children,  we  foolishly  expect  they  should  be  good  men  For,  if  the  child 
must  have  grapes  or  sugar-plums  when  he  has  a mind  to  them,  rather  than 
make  poor  baby  cry  or  be  out  of  humour,  why,  when  he  is  grown  up,  must 
he  not  be  satisfied  too  if  his  desires  carry  him  to  wine  or  women  ? They 
are  objects  as  suitable  to  the  longing  of  one  of  more  years  as  what  he  cried 
for  when  little  was  to  the  inclinations  of  a child.  The  having  desires  ac- 
commodated to  the  apprehensions  and  relish  of  those  several  ages  is  not  a 
fault,  but  tbe  not  having  them  subject  to  the  rules  and  restraints  of  reason. 
The  difference  lies,  not  in  the  having  or  not  having  appetites,  but  in  the 
power  to  govern  and  deny  ourselves  in  them.”  2 


1 ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  § 31. 


2 Ibid.,  §§  32,34,35,36. 


260 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


That  from  earliest  infancy  the  mind  should  be  trained  to  govern  the  body 
by  exercise  of  reason  and  self-denial,  and  that  as  it  progressed  it  should  be 
enabled  to  make  the  best  use  of  its  faculties  in  dignified  and  serviceable 
ways,  was  Locke’s  reiterated  recommendation.  Perhaps,  approving  the 
stern  treatment  to  which  he  himself,  as  a child,  had  been  subjected  by  his 
father,  there  was  too  much  sternness  in  his  rules.  But  his  rules  were  never 
unkind.  The  unkindness,  as  he  urged,  is  in  encouraging  children  to  be 
naughty,  and  then  flogging  them  for  their  naughtiness.  The  parent  who 
keeps  his  child  in  awe  of  him  need  never  flog  him,  and,  whereas  awe  in  a 
child  naturally  passes  into  respect  in  a man,  “ slavish  discipline  ” begets 
nothing  but  “ a slavish  temper.”  If  you  have  not  the  wit  to  keep  your 
children  in  order  without  whipping  them,  Locke  said  in  effect,  you  had 
better  let  them  run  wild ; “for  extravagant  young  fellows,  that  have  liveli- 
ness and  spirit,  come  sometimes  to  be  set  right,  and  so  make  able  and  great 
men ; but  dejected  minds,  timorous  and  tame,  are  hardly  ever  to  be  raised, 
and  very  seldom  attain  to  anything.”  “ If  severity,  carried  to  the  highest 
pitch,  does  prevail  and  works  a cure  upon  the  present  unruly  distemper,  it 
is  often  by  bringing  in  the  room  of  it  a worse  and  more  dangerous  disease, 
by  breaking  the  mind,  and  then,  in  the  place  of  a disorderly  young  fellow, 
you  have  a low-spirited,  moped  creature,  who,  however  with  his  unnatural 
sobriety  he  may  please  silly  people  who  commend  tame  inactive  children 
because  they  make  no  noise  nor  give  them  any  trouble,  yet  at  last  will 
probably  prove  as  uncomfortable  a thing  to  his  friends  as  he  will  be  all  his 
life  an  useless  thing  to  himself  and  others.”  1 Excellent  wisdom,  surely, 
for  a bachelor  of  sixty  or  thereabouts  to  impress  upon  married  folk  and 
parents ! 

Deprecating  the  rod  and  all  coarse  punishments,  Locke  objected  as  strongly 
to  the  rewards  usually  given  to  children.  “ He  that  will  give  his  son  apples, 
or  sugar-plums,  or  what  else  of  this  kind  he  is  most  delighted  with,  to  make 
him  learn  his  book,  does  but  authorise  his  love  of  pleasure,  and  foster  up 
that  dangerous  propensity  which  he  ought  by  all  means  to  subdue  and  stifle 
in  him.”  What,  then,  did  he  propose  instead  of  ordinary  rewards  and 
punishments?  Esteem  and  disgrace.  These,  he  urged,  are  “the  most 
powerful  incentives  to  the  mind,  when  once  it  is  brought  to  relish  them ; if 
you  can  once  get  into  children  a love  of  credit  and  an  apprehension  of  shame 
and  disgrace,  you  have  put  into  them  the  true  principle  which  will  con- 
stantly work  and  incline  them  to  the  right.”  That,  he  admitted,  is  not 


1 ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  §§  46,  51. 


1*93.  "I 
Mt.  60. J 


REWARDS  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 


2G1 


easy.  But  education  is  not  easy.  It  can  only  be  managed  properly  by 
inducing  the  children  to  respect  their  teachers,  and  they  who  cannot  win 
this  respect  cannot  possibly  be  good  teachers.  And,  Locke  added,  after 
saying  much  more  about  the  moral  training  of  children,  “ He  that  will  have 
his  son  have  a respect  for  him  and  his  orders,  must  himself  have  a great 
reverence  for  his  son.  ‘ Maxima  debetur  pueris  reverentia.’  You  must  do 
nothing  before  him  which  you  would  not  have  him  imitate.  If  anything 
escape  you,  which  you  would  have  pass  for  a fault  in  him,  he  will  be  sure 
to  shelter  himself  under  your  example,  and  shelter  himself  so  as  that  it  will 
not  be  easy  to  come  at  him  to  correct  it  in  him  the  right  way.  If  you  punish 
him  for  what  be  sees  you  practise  yourself,  he  will  not  think  that  severity 
to  proceed  from  kindness  in  you,  careful  to  amend  a fault  in  him,  but  will 
be  apt  to  interpret  it  the  peevishness  and  arbitrary  imperiousness  of  a father 
who,  without  any  ground  for  it,  would  deny  his  son  the  liberty  and  pleasure 
he  takes  himself.  Or,  if  you  assume  to  yourself  the  liberty  you  have  taken 
as  a privilege  belonging  to  riper  years,  to  which  a child  must  not  aspire, 
you  do  but  add  new  force  to  your  example,  and  recommend  the  action  the 
more  powerfully  to  him.  For  you  must  always  remember  that  children 
affect  to  be  men  earlier  than  is  thought,  and  they  love  breeches,  not  for 
their  cut  or  ease,  but  because  the  having  them  is  a mark  of  a step  towards 
manhood.”  1 

In  order  to  turn  children  into  reasonable  men  and  women,  Locke  thought, 
their  reasoning  powers  must  be  made  use  of  and  strengthened.  “ They 
understand  reasoning  as  early  as  they  do  language,  and,  if  I misobserve  not, 
they  love  to  be  treated  as  rational  creatures  sooner  than  is  imagined.  ’Tis 
a pride  should  be  cherished  in  them,  and,  as  much  as  can  be,  made  the 
great  instrument  to  turn  them  by.  But  when  I talk  of  reasoning,  I do  not 
intend  any  other  but  such  as  is  suited  to  the  child’s  capacity  and  appre- 
hension. Nobody  can  think  a boy  of  three  or  seven  years  old  should  be 
argued  with  as  a grown  man.  Long  discourses  and  philosophical  reasonings, 
at  best,  amaze  and  confound,  but  do  not  instruct  children.  They  cannot 
conceive  the  force  of  long  deductions.  The  reasons  that  move  them 
must  be  obvious  and  level  to  their  thoughts,  and  such  as  may,  if  I may  say 
so,  be  felt  and  touched ; but  yet,  if  their  age,  temper,  and  inclination  be 
considered,  there  will  never  want  such  motives  as  may  be  sufficient  to 
convince  them.”  2 

Locke’s  notion  as  to  the  sort  of  moral  training  proper  to  young  people 


1 ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  §§  52,  56,  71. 

a Ibid.,  § 81. 


2G2 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


when  passed  out  of  infancy  and  early  childhood  is  set  forth  at  great  length  in 
his  ‘Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  and  may  be  compactly  illustrated  by 
a few  sentences  from  his  account  of  an  ideal  tutor  and  his  duties.  “ The 
great  work  of  a governor,”  he  said,  “ is  to  fashion  the  carriage  and  form 
the  mind,  to  settle  in  his  pupil  good  habits  and  the  principles  of  virtue 
and  wisdom,  to  give  him  by  little  and  little  a view  of  mankind,  and  work 
him  into  a love  and  imitation  of  what  is  excellent  and  praiseworthy,  and, 
in  the  prosecution  of  it,  to  give  him  vigour,  activity,  and  industry.  The 
studies  which  he  sets  him  upon  are  but  as  it  were  the  exercises  of  his 
faculties  and  employment  of  his  time,  to  keep  him  from  sauntering  and 
idleness,  to  teach  him  application,  and  accustom  him  to  take  pains,  and  to 
give  him  some  little  taste  of  what  his  own  industry  must  perfect.  For  who 
expects  that,  under  a tutor,  a young  gentleman  should  be  an  accomplished 
critic,  orator,  or  logician,  go  to  the  bottom  of  metaphysics,  natural  philo- 
sophy, or  mathematics,  or  be  a master  in  history  or  chronology  ? Though 
something  of  each  of  these  is  to  be  taught  him,  it  is  only  to  open  the 
door  that  he  may  look  in,  and,  as  it  were,  begin  an  acquaintance,  but  not 
to  dwell  there ; and  a governor  would  be  much  blamed  that  should  keep 
his  pupil  too  long  and  lead  him  too  far  in  most  of  them.  But  of  good 
breeding,  knowledge  of  the  world,  virtue,  industry,  and  a love  of  reputa- 
tion, he  cannot  have  too  much  ; and,  if  he  have  these,  he  will  not  long  want 
what  he  needs  or  desires  of  the  other.”1 

Virtue,  wisdom,  good  breeding,  and  learning  Locke  considered — and  in 
that  gradation — to  be  the  matters  with  which  education  should  concern 
itself. 

The  foundation  of  virtue  he  placed  in  “ a true  notion  of  God,  as  of 
the  independent  Supreme  Being,  the  author  and  maker  of  all  things,  from 
whom  we  receive  all  our  good,  who  loves  us  and  gives  us  all  things,”  in 
careful  avoidance  of  all  teaching  about  supernatural  agencies  of  evil,  and  in 
the  diligent  inculcation  of  truthful  habits.  “ Let  the  child  know  that  twenty 
faults  are  sooner  to  be  forgiven  than  the  straining  of  truth  to  cover  any 
one  by  an  excuse.  And  to  teach  him  betimes  to  love  and  to  be  good- 
natured  to  others  is  to  lay  early  the  foundation  of  an  honest  man ; all 
injustice  generally  springing  from  too  great  love  of  ourselves  and  too  little 
of  others.”  2 

“ To  accustom  a child  to  have  true  notions  of  things,  and  not  to  be 
satisfied  till  he  has  them  ; to  raise  his  mind  to  great  and  worthy  thoughts; 


1 * Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  § 94. 

2 Ibid.,  § § 136,  139. 


1693.  "I 
■ffit.  60. J 


THE  SCOPE  OF  EDUCATION. 


263 


and  to  keep  him  at  a distance  from  falsehood  and  cunning,  which  has 
always  a broad  mixture  of  falsehood  in  it,”  Locke  said  under  his  second 
head,  “is  the  fittest  preparation  of  a child  for  wisdom.”1 

Of  good  breeding  he  thought  highly  and  wrote  at  some  length,  though  his 
views  were  fairly  summed  up  in  one  sentence  : “ There  are  two  sorts  of 
ill-breeding,  the  one  a sheepish  bashfulne.ss,  and  the  other  a misbecoming 
negligence  and  disrespect  in  our  carriage  ; both  which  are  avoided  by  duly 
observing  this  rule,  Not  to  think  meanly  of  ourselves,  and  not  to  think  meanly 
of  others.”  2 

Learning  came  last  in  Locke’s  category,  and  he  was  careful  to  point  out 
that  he  regarded  it  as  the  least  part  of  education.  “ When  I consider  what 
a-do  is  made  about  a little  Latin  and  Greek,  how  many  years  are  spent  in 
it,  and  what  a noise  and  business  it  makes  to  no  purpose,  I can  hardly 
forbear  thinking  that  the  parents  of  children  still  live  in  fear  of  the 
schoolmaster’s  rod,  which  they  look  on  as  the  only  instrument  of  education, 
and  a language  or  two  to  be  its  whole  business.”  “ Secure  your  son’s 
innocence  as  much  as  possible,”  he  said,  “cherish  and  nurse  up  the  good, 
and  gently  correct  and  weed  out  any  bad  inclinations,  and  settle  in  him  good 
habits.  This  is  the  main  point,  and,  this  being  provided  for,  learning  may 
be  had  into  the  bargain,  and  that,  as  I think,  at  a very  easy  rate.”  3 

Of  the  objections  taken  by  Locke  to  the  subjects  and  methods  of  school- 
teaching which  were  favoured  in  his  day,  and,  by  inference,  of  the  im- 
provements that  he  desired,  sufficient  illustrations  have  perhaps  been  given 
in  our  examination  of  his  own  school  life.  It  is  not,  at  any  rate,  necessary 
here  to  repeat  his  curriculum  of  study  as  adapted  to  various  scholars. 
His  grand  canon  was  that  all  teaching  should  follow  the  dictates  of  common- 
sense  in  being  made  as  simple  and  intelligible  as  possible,  free  from  all 
scholastic  jargon  and  fettered  by  no  mischievous  traditions ; and,  next  to 
that,  he  insisted  that,  while  to  every  pupil  ought  to  be  imparted  as  much 
useful  instruction  as  he  had  time  and  intelligence  to  receive,  the  instruction 
should  in  every  case  be  suited  to  the  special  requirements  and  future 
prospects  of  the  pupil.  Any  one  intended  for  one  of  the  learned  professions 
should,  of  course,  be  well  grounded  in  the  classical  languages  and  all  the 
lore  necessary  to  the  thorough  performance  of  the  duties  that  would  devolve 
upon  him  ; but  for  any  one  intended  to  be  a country  gentleman  or  a 
merchant,  or  to  follow  any  other  path  in  life,  the  prescribed  studies  should 


1 ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  § 140. 

2 Ibid.,  § 141.  3 Ibid.,  § 147. 


264 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XI L 


be  in  harmony  with  the  circumstances  of  his  career,  and  he  should  be  troubled 
with  no  useless  learning.  In  the  case  of  each  youth,  “ his  tutor  should 
remember  that  his  business  is  not  so  much  to  teach  him  all  that  is  knowable 
as  to  raise  in  him  a love  and  esteem  of  knowledge,  and  to  put  him  in  the 
right  way  of  knowing  and  improving  himself  when  he  has  a mind  to  it.” 
“The  great  business  of  all  is  virtue  and  wisdom.  Teach  him  to  get  a 
mastery  over  his  inclinations,  and  submit  his  appetite  to  reason.  This 
being  obtained,  and  by  constant  practice  settled  into  habit,  the  hardest  part 
of  the  task  is  over.”  1 

Before  parting  from  ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Edu- 
cation,’ we  may  take  note  of  the  correspondence  between 
Locke  and  Molyneux  which  the  hook  provoked. 

Highly  commending  the  work  as  a 'whole,  Molyneux 
took  exception  to  that  part  in  which,  as  he  said,  Locke 
seemed  “to  bear  hard  on  the  tender  spirits  of  children 
and  the  natural  affections  of  parents,”  and  especially  to 
the  doctrine  that  “ a child  should  never  be  suffered  to  have 
what  he  craves  or  so  much  as  speaks  for,  much  less  if  he 
cries  for  it.”2  “You  say,  indeed,  ‘ This  will  teach  them 
to  stifle  their  desires,  and  to  practise  modesty  and  tem- 
perance; ’ but  for  teaching  these  virtues,  I conceive,” 
Molyneux  urged,  “ we  shall  have  occasions  enough  in 
relation  to  their  hurtful  desires,  without  abridging  them 
so  wholly  in  matters  indifferent  and  innocent,  that  tend 
only  to  divert  and  please  their  busy  spirits.  You  allow, 
indeed,  ‘that  ’twould  be  inhumanity  to  deny  them  those 
things  one  perceives  would  delight  them.’  If  so,  I see 
no  reason  why,  in  a modest  way,  and  with  submission  to 
the  wills  of  their  superiors,  they  may  not  be  allowed  to 
declare  what  will  delight  them.  ‘No,’  say  you,  ‘ but  in  all 
wants  of  fancy  and  affectation,  they  should  never,  if  once 
declared,  be  hearkened  to  or  complied  with.’  This  I can 

1 ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’  §§  195,  200. 

2 Ibid.,  § 108. 


KP3.  T 

jEt.  60.  J 


THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  CHILDREN. 


265 


never  agree  to ; it  being  to  deny  that  liberty  between  a 
child  and  its  parents  which  we  desire,  and  have  granted 
us,  between  man  and  his  Creator.”  1 

Molyneux  said  more  to  the  same  effect,  the  purport  of 
which  appears  in  Locke’s  reply.  “ Your  objection,”  he 
then  wrote,  “ confirms  to  me  that  you  are  the  good- 
natured  man  I took  you  for ; and  I do  not  at  all  wonder 
that  the  affection  of  a kind  father  should  startle  at  it 
at  first  reading,  and  think  it  very  severe  that  children 
should  not  be  suffered  to  express  their  desires ; for  so 
you  seem  to  understand  me.  What  you  say — that 
children  would  be  moped  for  want  of  diversion  and 
recreation,  or  else  we  must  have  those  about  them  that 
study  nothing  all  day  but  how  to  find  employment  for 
them ; and  how  this  would  rack  the  invention  of  any 
man  living  you  would  leave  me  to  judge — seems  to 
intimate  as  if  you  understood  that  children  should  do 
nothing  but  by  prescription  Of  their  parents  or  tutors, 
chalking  out  each  action  of  the  whole  day  in  train  to 
them.  I hope  my  words  express  no  such  thing,  for  it  is 
quite  contrary  to  my  sense,  and  I think  would  be  useless 
tyranny  in  their  governors  and  certain  ruin  to  the 
children.  I am  so  much  for  recreation  that  I would, 
as  much  as  possible,  have  all  they  do  be  made  so.  I 
think  recreation  as  necessary  to  them  as  their  food,  and 
that  nothing  can  be  recreation  that  does  not  delight.  I 
would  have  them  have  the  greatest  part  of  their  time  left 
to  them,  without  restraint,  to  divert  themselves  any  way 
they  think  best,  so  it  be  free  from  vicious  actions  or  such 
as  may  introduce  vicious  habits.  And  therefore,  if  they 
should  ask  to  play,  it  could  be  no  more  interpreted 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  50 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  12  August, 
1608. 


266  IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap.  xii. 

a want  of  fancy  than  if  they  asked  for  victuals  when 
hungry ; though,  when  the  matter  is  well  ordered,  they 
will  never  need  to  do  that.  I am  for  the  full  liberty  of 
diversion,  as  much  as  you  can  be,  and,  upon  a second 
perusal  of  my  book,  I do  not  doubt  but  you  will  find  me 
so.  But,  being  allowed  that,  as  one  of  their  natural 
wants,  they  should  not  yet  be  permitted  to  let  loose  their 
desires  in  importunities  for  what  they  fancy.  Children 
are  very  apt  to  covet  what  they  see  those  above  them  in 
age  have  or  do,  to  have  or  do  the  like,  especially  if  it 
be  their  elder  brothers  or  sisters.  This,  being  indulged 
when  they  are  little,  grows  up  with  age,  and  with  that 
enlarges  itself  to  things  of  greater  consequence,  and  has 
ruined  more  families  than  one  in  the  world.  This  should 
he  suppressed  in  its  very  first  rise,  and  the  desires  you 
would  not  have  encouraged  you  should  not  permit  to  be 
spoken,  which  is  the  best  way  for  them  to  silence  them  to 
themselves.” 1 

Molyneux  also  took  exception  to  Locke’s  theory  of 
“ hardy  breeding,”  saying  that  he  dared  not  adopt  it  in 
his  own  case,  at  any  rate,  as  his  child  was  weakly.  l'  You 
say  your  son  is  not  very  strong,”  replied  Locke.  “ To 
make  him  strong,  you  must  make  him  hardy,  as  I have 
directed  ; hut  you  must  be  sure  to  do  it  by  very  insensible 
degrees,  and  begin  any  hardship  you  would  bring  him  to 
only  in  the  spring.  This  is  all  the  caution  needs  be  used. 
I have  an  example  of  it  in  the  house  I live  in,  where  the 
only  son  of  a very  tender  mother  was  almost  destroyed  by 
a too  tender  keeping.  He  is  now,  by  a contrary  usage, 
come  to  bear  wind  and  weather,  and  wet  in  his  feet ; and 
the  cough  which  threatened  him  under  that  warm  and 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  57  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  23  August, 
1G93. 


1693.  1 
Mt.  60. J 


THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  CHILDREN. 


267 


cautious  management  lias  left  him,  and  is  now  no  longer 
his  parents’  constant  apprehension  as  it  was.”1  As  Oates 
was  the  house  Locke  then  lived  in,  Lady  Masham  was, 
of  course,  the  tender  mother  and  Frank  Masham  the  child 
alluded  to. 

“ Were  it  not  too  nigh  approaching  to  vanity,  I could 
tell  you  of  extraordinary  effects  your  method  of  education 
has  had  on  my  little  boy,”  Molyneux  wrote  twenty  months 
later.2  “ I should  he  glad  to  know  the  particulars,”  said 
Locke  in  his  reply.  “ For,  though  I have  seen  the  success 
of  it  in  a child  of  the  lady  in  whose  house  I am  (whose 
mother  has  taught  him  Latin  without  knowing  it  herself 
when  she  began),  yet  I would  be  glad  to  have  other 
instances,  because  some  men,  who  cannot  endure  any- 
thing should  be  mended  in  the  world  by  a new  method, 
object,  I hear,  that  my  way  of  education  is  impracticable. 
But  this  I can  assure  you,  that  the  child  above  mentioned, 
but  nine  years  old  in  June  last,  has  learnt  to  read  and 
write  very  well,  is  now  reading  Quintus  Curtius  with  his 
mother,  understands  geography  and  chronology  very  well 
and  the  Copernican  system  of  our  vortex,  is  able  to 
multiply  well  and  divide  a little,  and  all  this  without 
ever  having  had  one  blow  for  his  book.”3 

Thus  encouraged,  Molyneux  wrote  his  own  little  boy’s 
educational  biography.  “ He  was  six  years  old  about  the 
middle  of  last  July.  When  he  was  but  just  turned  five, 
he  could  read  perfectly  well,  and  on  the  globes  could 
have  traced  out  and  pointed  at  all  the  noted  parts, 
countries,  and  cities  of  the  world,  both  land  and  sea; 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  57  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  23  August. 
1693. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  114  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  7 May,  1695. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  117  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  2 July,  1695. 


268  IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap,  xii 

and,  by  five  and  a half,  could  perform  many  of  the 
plainest  problems  on  the  globe,  as  the  longitude  and 
latitude,  the  antipodes,  the  time  with  them  and  other 
countries,  etc.,  and  this  by  way  of  play  and  diversion, 
seldom  called  to  it,  never  chid  or  beaten  for  it.  About 
the  same  age  he  could  read  any  number  of  figures  not 
exceeding  six  places,  break  it  as  you  please  by  cyphers 
or  zeros.  By  the  time  he  was  six  he  could  manage  a 
compass,  ruler  and  pencil  very  prettily,  and  perform  many 
little  geometrical  tricks,  and  advanced  to  writing  and 
arithmetic,  and  has  been  about  three  months  at  Latin, 
wherein  his  tutor  observes,  as  nigh  as  he  can,  the  method 
prescribed  by  you.  He  can  read  a gazette,  and,  in  the 
large  maps  of  Sanson,  shows  most  of  the  remarkable 
places  as  he  goes  along,  and  turns  to  the  proper  maps. 
He  has  been  shown  some  dogs  dissected,  and  can  give 
some  little  account  of  the  grand  traces  of  anatomy.  And 
as  to  the  formation  of  his  mind,  which  you  rightly  observe 
to  be  the  most  valuable  part  of  education,  I do  not  believe 
that  any  child  had  ever  his  passions  more  perfectly  at 
command.  He  is  obedient  and  observant  to  the  nicest 
particular,  and  at  the  same  time  sprightly,  playful,  and 
active.”  1 

“ You  have  a good  subject  to  work  on,”  Locke  said  in 
his  answer,  £<  and  therefore  pray  let  this  be  your  chief 
care,  to  fill  your  son’s  head  with  clear  and  distinct  ideas, 
and  teach  him  on  all  occasions,  both  by  practice  and  rule, 
how  to  get  them,  and  the  necessity  of  them.  This,  to- 
gether with  a mind  active  and  set  upon  the  attaining  of 
truth  and  reputation,  is  the  true  principling  of  a young 
man.  But  to  give  him  a reverence  for  our  opinions, 


1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  124;  William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  24  August, 


‘AN  ESSAY  CONCEENING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING.’  269 

because  we  taught  them,  is  not  to  make  knowing  men, 
hut  prattling  parrots.”  1 


Though  the  publication  of  ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning 
Education  ’ was  an  important  event  in  Locke’s  literary 
life,  and  must  be  referred  to  the  early  months  of  1693,  it 
did  not  take  up  much  of  his  time.  His  quiet  life  at 
Oates  during  the  winter  of  1692-3,  and  some  time  after 
that,  was  chiefly  occupied  in  preparing  a second  edition 
of  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  and  in 
studies  connected  therewith. 

“ I am  happy  to  tell-  you,”  he  wrote  to  Limborch  in 
A-Ugust,  1692,  “ that  a new  edition  of  my  book  is  called 
for,  which,  in  the  present  turmoil  of  the  protestant  world, 
I consider  very  satisfactory.” 2 It  was  certainly  very 
satisfactory  that,  within  a space  of  hardly  more  than  two 
years,  a work  of  so  solid  a nature,  and  appealing  to  such 
a limited  circle  of  readers — and  it  must  be  remembered 
that  in  those  days  the  circle  of  intelligent  readers  to 
whom  such  a book,  written  in  English,  could  appeal,  was 
far  smaller  than  it  would  have  been  had  it  been  produced 
in  Latin — should  have  passed  through  a first  edition.  In 
setting  himself  to  prepare  another,  Locke  took  all  the 
pains  that  were  due  to  his  own  reputation  as  a now 
acknowledged  teacher  of  philosophy,  though  his  care  for 
that  was  very  slight  in  comparison  with  his  honest  desire, 
in  the  interests  of  truth,  to  make  the  work  as  complete 
and  accurate  as  it  was  in  his  power  to  make  it. 

His  temper  appears  from  a letter  that  he  wrote  to 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’ p.  146;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  80  March, 
1696. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Bemonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  2 August, 
1692. 


270 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


Molyneux  oh  the  20th  of  September.  “ I desire  your 
advice  and  assistance  about  a second  edition  of  my 
‘ Essay,’  the  former  being  now  dispersed,”  he  said.  “You 
have,  I perceive,  read  it  over  so  carefully,  more  than 
once,  that  I know  nobody  I can  more  reasonably  consult 
about  the  mistakes  and  defects  of  it ; and  I expect  a great 
deal  more  from  any  objections  you  should  make,  who 
comprehend  the  whole  design  and  compass  of  it,  than 
from  any  one  who  has  read  but  a part  of  it,  or  measures 
it  upon  a slight  reading  by  his  own  prejudices.  You  will 
find,  by  my  ‘ Epistle  to  the  Beader,’  that  I was  not  insen- 
sible of  the  fault  I committed  by  being  too  long  on  some 
points,  and  the  repetitions  that,  by  my  way  of  writing  it, 
I let  pass,  but  not  without  advice  so  to  do.  But — • 
now  that  my  notions  are  got  into  the  world,  and  have  in 
some  measure  bustled  through  the  opposition  and  diffi- 
culty they  were  like  to  meet  with  from  the  deceived 
opinion  and  that  prepossession  which  might  hinder  them 
from  being  understood  upon  a short  proposal — I ask 
you  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  pare  off  a great 
part  of  that  which  cannot  but  appear  superfluous  to  an 
intelligent  and  attentive  reader.  If  you  are  of  that  mind, 
I shall  beg  the  favour  of  you  to  mark  to  me  those  passages 
which  you  think  fittest  to  be  left  out.  If  there  be  any- 
thing wherein  you  think  me  mistaken,  I beg  you  to  deal 
freely  with  me,  that  either  I may  clear  it  up  to  you,  or 
reform  it  in  the  next  edition.  For  I flatter  myself  that  I 
am  so  sincere  a lover  of  truth  that  it  is  very  indifferent 
to  me,  so  I am  possessed  of  it,  whether  it  be  my  own  or 
any  other’s  discovery.  For  I count  any  parcel  of  this 
gold  not  the  less  to  be  valued,  nor  not  the  less  enriching, 
because  I wrought  it  not  out  of  the  mine  myself.  I think 
every  one  ought  to  contribute  to  the  common  stock,  but 


^60-62.]  THE  SECOND  EDITION  OF  THE  ESSAY.  271 

to  have  ho  other  scruple  or  shyness  about  the  receiving  of 
truth  but  that  he  he  not  imposed  on  and  take  counterfeit, 
and  what  will  not  bear  the  touch,  for  genuine  and  real 
truth.  I doubt  not  but  that,  in  the  reading  of  my  hook, 
you  miss  several  things  that  perhaps  belong  to  my  sub- 
ject, and,  you  would  think,  belong  to  the  system.  If  in 
this  part,  too,  you  will  communicate  your  thoughts,  you 
will  do  me  a favour ; for,  though  I will  not  so  far  flatter 
myself  as  to  undertake  to  fill  up  the  gaps  which  you  may 
observe  in  it,  yet  it  may  be  of  use,  where  mine  is  at  a 
stand,  to  suggest  to  others  matter  of  farther  contempla- 
tion.” 

That  bundle  of  requests  was  followed  by  an  interesting 
correspondence  between  Molyneux  and  Locke,  extending 
over  the  year  and  a half  that  elapsed  before  the  second 
edition  of  the  ‘ Essay  ’ was  ready  for  the  printers. 
Molyneux  was  anxious  that  his  friend,  while  reprinting 
the  work,  should  reshape  and  expand  some  portions  in  a 
more  systematic  treatise,  for  school  and  college  use,  on 
logic  and  metaphysics— which  Locke  declined  to  do — 
and  yet  more  anxious  that  he  should  supplement  it  by 
a treatise  on  ethics- — a proposal  to  which  Locke  half 
assented.  As  regarded  the  ''Essay’  itself  his  first  judg- 
ment was  that  “ the  same  judicious  hand  that  first  formed 
it  is  best  able  to  reform  it,  where  he  sees  convenient.” 
He  suggested,  however,  several  verbal  corrections,  most  of 
which  were  thankfully  adopted,  and  a few  others  of  more 
importance.  It  was  by  his  advice  that  the  long  chapter 
“ of  identity  and  diversity  ” 2 was  added  to  the  work,  and, 
though  not  by  his  advice  alone,  that  considerable  altera- 
tions were  made  in  the  more  famous  chapter  “ of 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  6 ; Locke  to  Molyneux,  20  Sept.,  1692. 

* * Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xxvii. 


272 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


power.”1  These  and  some  minor  alterations  added  much 
to  the  value  of  the  work. 

In  correcting  and  improving  his  ‘ Essay  ’ with  the 
utmost  possible  care  and  unbiassed  thought,  Locke  chiefly 
occupied  all  the  time  he  could  give  to  literary  work  from 
the  autumn  of  1692  till  the  spring  of  1694.  “ My  book 

is  now  printed  and  bound  and  ready  to  he  sent  to  you,” 
he  wrote  to  Molyneux  in  May,  1694,  in  a letter  in  which 
he  complained  of  “ the  slowness  of  the  press.”2 

One  small  matter,  if  it  be  a small  one,  connected  with 
the  publication,  deserves  to  be  noted  as  an  evidence  of 
Locke’s  desire  to  make  his  work  as  useful  as  possible  to 
liis  readers,  without  much  thought  of  his  own  pecuniary 
advantage.  Along  with  the  second  edition  he  issued,  on 
separate  slips,  all  the  important  alterations  and  additions 
that  ho  had  made,  copies  of  which  all  owners  of  the  first 
edition  could  have  for  the  asking.  A set  of  these  slips  he 
sent  to  Molyneux,  with  a suggestion  that  he  should  insert 
them  in  his  original  copy  and  give  it  away  to  “ any  young 
man.”3  “ Our  friend  Dr.  Locke,  I am  told,  has  made  an 
addition  to  his  excellent  ‘Essay,’  which  may  be  had 
without  purchasing  the  whole  book,”  wuote  Evelyn  to 
Pepys  on  the  7th  of  July.  “ Dr.  Locke,”  Pepys  replied 
on  the  10th  of  August,  “ has  set  a useful  example  to 
future  reprinters.  I hope  it  will  be  followed  in  books  of 
value.” 

The  second  edition  had  not  been  published  many 
months  before  a third  was  called  for,  and  it  was  published 

1 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xxi.  See  a letter  from 
Le  Clerc  to  Locke,  dated  12  Aug.,  1694,  in  Lord  King,  p.  818. 

a ‘ Familiar  Letters,’ p.  76  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  26  May,  1694. 

3 Ibid.  One  of  these  sets  was  pasted  by  Tyrrell  into  bis  copy  of  the 
first  edition,  now  in  the  British  Museum. 


J3t?62.]  rHE  LATIN  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  ESSAY.  273 

before  the  year  was  out,  near  the  end  of  June,  1695. 
This,  however,  was  hardly  more  than  a verbal  reprint  of 
the  one  that  preceded  it,  and  ga.ve  Locke  very  little  fresh 
work  to  do. 

He  was  more  occupied  with  various  proposals  for 
translating  it  into  Latin.  Molyneux  urged  this  very 
strongly,  and  offered  to  pay  all  the  expenses  of  the 
translation,  if  Locke  would  revise  the  work,  or  even  him- 
self, if  necessary,  to  undertake  the  latter  task.  “ This 
I do,”  he  said,  “not  that  I think  you  may  not  with  a 
great  deal  of  ease  employ  some  one  yourself  in  this 
matter,  but  merely  that  herein  I may  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  so  much  good  in  the  world.”2  The 
offer  was  in  part  accepted  by  Locke.  He  would  not 
put  his  friend  to  pecuniary  expense,  nor  did  the  publisher 
require  that,  but  he  was  glad  for  him  to  superintend 
the  translation.  He  told  Molyneux  of  an  unfortunate 
attempt  made  by  a young  gentleman  in  Amsterdam, 
named  Veriyn,  to  produce  a Latin  version.3  “ Since  that, 
my  bookseller  was,  and  had  been  for  some  time,  seeking 
for  a translator,  whom  he  would  have  treated  with  to  have 
undertaken  it,  and  have  satisfied  for  his  pains.  But,  a 
little  before  the  coming  of  your  letter,  he  writ  me  word 
he  had  been  disappointed  where  he  expected  to  have 
found  one  who  would  have  done  it,  and  was  now  at  a loss, 
so  that  what  you  call  a bold  is  not  only  the  kindest,  but 
the  most  seasonable,  proposal  you  could  have  made.”4 

There  was  some  difficulty,  however,  in  finding  a com- 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  117  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  2 July,  1695. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  94;  William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  15  Jan.,  1694-5. 

3 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants’  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  7 Nov.,  1690, 
and  13  March,  1690-1.  Also  Lord  King  (ed.  1830),  vol.  ii.,  p.  311 ; 
Limborch  to  Locke,  [19 — ] 29  May,  1691. 

4 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  100  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  8 March,  1694-5. 

Vol.  II. — 18 


274 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


petent  translator,  and  after  that  in  getting  the  work 
completed.  Molyneux  at  first  entrusted  it  to  a Dublin 
student  named  William  Mullart ; but,  after  some  experi- 
ment, his  Latin  style  wras  found  to  be  faulty  and  his 
other  engagements  threatened  to  detain  him  very  long 
over  the  business.1  Another  person  had  accordingly  to 
be  looked  for,  and  at  last  the  right  man  was  found  in 
Richard  Burridge,  an  Irish  clergyman  of  great  scholar- 
ship and  very  liberal  opinions.2  Beginning  the  welcome 
task  early  in  1696,  he  was  at  intervals  engaged  upon  it 
during  at  least  three  years,  and  it  was  not  published  till 
1701. 

At  the  instance  of  Molyneux  the  ‘ Essay  ’ had  been 
made  a text-book  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  in  1692,  or 
even  earlier.  “ The  reverend  provost  of  our  university, 
Dr.  Ashe,  a most  learned  and  ingenious  man,”  wrote 
Molyneux,  “ was  so  wonderfully  pleased  and  satisfied  with 
it  that  he  has  ordered  it  to  be  read  by  the  bachelors  in 
the  college,  and  strictly  examines  them  in  their  progress 
therein.  Now  a large  discourse  in  the  way  of  a logic 
would  be  much  more  taking  in  the  universities,  wherein 
youths  do  not  satisfy  themselves  to  have  the  breeding  or 
business  of  the  place  unless  they  are  imaged  in  some- 
thing that  bears  the  name  and  form  of  logic.”3  It  was  on 
that  account  that  Molyneux  urged  Locke  to  reshape  the 
work  in  such  a way  as  to  adapt  it  to  college  use.  A 
better  proposal  was  made,  two  years  later,  very  soon  after 
the  publication  of  the  second  edition,  by  Dr.  John  Wynne, 


1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  122  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  24  August, 
1695. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  129;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  20  Nov.,  1695  ; and  several 
subsequent  letters  between  Locke  and  Molyneux. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  17 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  22  Dec.,  1692. 


m'62.]  the  abridgment  of  the  essay.  275 

a fellow  of  Jesus  College,  Oxford,  and  bishop  of  St.  Asapli 
in  1714,  wlio  volunteered  to  prepare  an  abridgment  of 
the  ‘ Essay.’  To  this  offer  Locke  gladly  acceded,1  and 
Wynne’s  compilation  was  published  in  1696,  with  a 
dedication  to  Locke,  dated  the  17th  of  April,  1695.  Its 
success  shows  that  it  found  great  favour  with  university 
students,  though  it  doubtless  helped  to  provoke  the 
opposition  that  soon  after  began  to  be  offered  to  the 
larger  work  by  some  of  the  champions  of  orthodoxy  both 
at  Oxford  and  at  Cambridge. 

The  first  note  of  opposition  had  already  come  in  a 
feeble  and  courteous  way.  The  ‘ Essay  ’ had  only  been  pub- 
lished a month  or  two  when  John  Norris,  a clergyman 
who  had  been  intimate  with  Lady  Masham  before  Locke’s 
return  from  Holland,  appended  to  a work  entitled  ‘ Chris- 
tian Blessedness,  or  Discourses  upon  the  Beatitudes  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,’  some  ‘ Cursory 
Deflections  upon  a Book  called  “ An  Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding.”  ’ 2 Locke  did  not  think  Norris’s 
strictures  worth  much  attention.  He  penned  some  ob- 
servations upon  them,  however,  in  October,  1695, 3 and 
appears  to  have  been  induced  by  them  to  renew  his  ac- 
quaintance with  the  chief  work  of  the  far  abler  man  from 
whom  Norris  had  received  his  inspiration. 

Nicolas  Malebranche — Locke’s  junior  by  six  years,  the 

1 Lord  King,  pp.  189,  191;  Wynne  to  Locke,  31  Jan.,  1G94-5  ; Locke  to 
Wynne,  3 Feb.,  1694-5. 

2 Norris’s  most  important  work,  ‘An  Essay  on  the  Ideal  World,’  in 
which  he  set  forth  those  views  of  Malebranche  which  were  afterwards 
much  more  skilfully  adapted  and  expanded  by  Bishop  Berkeley,  was  not 
published  until  1701,  with  a second  part  in  1702. 

3 ‘ Bemarks  upon  some  of  Mr.  Norris’s  Books,’  in  ‘ A Collection  of 
Several  Pieces  of  Mr.  John  Locke  ’ (1720).  These  brief  strictures  substan- 
tially agreed  with  Locke’s  fuller  observations  on  Malebranche. 


276 


IN  KETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


LChap.  XII. 


greatest  of  all  the  disciples  of  Descartes  who  were  loyal 
throughout  their  lives  to  the  Cartesian  doctrines,  though 
he  coloured  them  with  a great  deal  of  religious  mysticism 
and  added  to  them  a great  deal  of  original  metaphysi- 
cal speculation,  the  intellectual  kinsman  if  by  no 
means  the  intellectual  comrade  of  Pascal — had,  in  1674, 
published  his  ‘Recherche  de  la  Verite.’  What  Locke 
thought  of  its  other  five  books  we  do  not  know,  though  it 
would  not  be  difficult  to  guess ; but  the  third  book,  on 
the  understanding  or,  “ 1’ esprit  pur,”  was  both  the  most 
attractive  and  the  most  repulsive  to  him,  and  especially 
that  part  of  it  in  which,  by  a modification  of  Plato’s 
teaching,  the  origin  of  ideas  was  explained  in  the  very 
pantheistic  way  which  afforded  refuge  to  this  greatest  of 
all  the  oratorians,  as  well  as  to  some  other  rebellious 
catholics. 

“ Malebranche’s  hypothesis  of  seeing  all  things  in  God 
being  that  from  whence  I find  some  men  would  derive 
our  ideas,”  Locke  wrote  to  Molyneux  while  he  was  pre- 
paring the  second  edition  of  his  ‘ Essay,’  “ I have  some 
thoughts  of  adding  a new  chapter,  wherein  I will  examine 
it,  having,  as  I think,  something  to  say  against  it  that 
will  show  the  weakness  of  it  very  clearly.  But  I have  so 
little  love  of  controversy  that  I am  not  fully  resolved.”1 
“ I should  very  much  approve,”  Molyneux  replied,  “ of 
your  adding  a chapter  in  your  essay  concerning  Male- 
branche’s hypothesis.  As  there  are  enthusiasms  in  di- 
vinity, so  there  are  in  philosophy,  and,  as  one  proceeds 
from  not  consulting  or  misapprehending  the  book  of  God, 
so  the  other  from  not  reading  or  considering  the  book  of 
nature.  I look  upon  Malebranche’s  notions,  or  rather 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  42 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  28  March, 
1693. 


iEt.^62.]  MALEBRANCHE  ON  “ SEEING  ALL  THINGS  IN  GOD.”  277 

Plato’s,  in  this  particular  as  perfectly  unintelligible  ; and 
if  you  will  engage  in  a philosophic  controversy  yon  cannot 
do  it  with  more  advantage  than  in  this  matter.  What 
you  lay  down  concerning  our  ideas  and  knowledge  is 
founded  and  confirmed  by  experience  and  observation 
that  any  man  may  make  in  himself  or  the  children  he 
converses  with,  wherein  he  may  note  the  gradual  steps 
that  we  make  in  knowledge;  but  Plato’s  fancy  has  no 
foundation  in  nature,  but  is  merely  the  product  of  his 
own  brain.”  1 

Locke  did  not  add  a chapter  to  the  ‘ Essay,’  but  soon 
after  the  second  edition  was  published  he  wrote  a short 
treatise  on  the  portion  of  Malebranche’s  work  which  most 
touched  on  his  own  ground.  “ I have  examined  Pere 
Malebranche’s  opinion  concerning  seeing  all  things  in 
God,  and,  to  my  own  satisfaction,  laid  open  the  vanity 
and  inconsistency  and  unintelligibleness  of  that  way  of 
explaining  human  understanding,”  he  said  in  March, 
1694-5.2  “What  I have  writ,”  he  added  in  another  letter, 
“ would  make  a little  treatise  of  itself.  But  I have  not 
quite  gone  through  it,  for  fear  I should  by  somebody  or 
other  be  tempted  to  print  it ; for  I love  not  controversies, 
and  have  a personal  kindness  for  the  author.”3  It  was 
published  among  his  posthumous  works  in  1706,  with  the 
title  ‘ An  Examination  of  Pere  Malebranche’s  Opinion  of 
Seeing  all  Things  in  God.’ 

A fuller  consideration  of  Malebranche’s  position  than  the  subject  calls  for 
here  would  he  needed  to  make  clear  the  opposition  offered  to  it  by  Locke. 
That  opposition,  moreover,  for  the  most  part  resolved  itself  into  verbal 
criticism  which,  since  all  that  was  strongest  in  Malebranche’s  arguments 


1 * Familiar  Letters,’  p.  45  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  18  April,  1693. 

2 Ibid. , p.  101 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  8 March,  1694-5. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  Ill ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  26  April,  1695. 


278 


IN  KETIBEMENT  : WOBK  AS  AN  AUTHOK. 


[Chap.  XII. 


was  subsequently  set  forth  anew  and  with  much  more  vigour  and  clearness 
by  Berkeley,  is  now  of  little  interest  save  as  illustrating  Locke’s  skill  in 
word-fencing.  The  ground  taken  up  by  Locke  was  quite  legitimate  and 
there  was  nothing  but  fair  fighting  in  his  attacks,  but,  as  he  attacked  Male- 
branche  and  not  Berkeley,  they  are  now  out  of  date. 

Malebranche  argued  at  great  length,  and  with  great  ability,  though  with 
a good  deal  of  jargon,  which  Locke  showed  to  be  as  objectionable  as  the  old 
jargon  of  the  schoolmen  which  it  was  intended  to  supersede,  that  we  have 
the  power  of  “ seeing  all  things,”  because  we  can  have  “ a desire  to  see  all 
things,”  and  therefore  that  all  things  are  present,  though  they  may  not  be 
apparent  to  our  minds ; and,  if  they  are  present,  he  added,  “ they  can  no 
ways  be  present  but  by  the  presence  of  God,  who  contains  them  in  all  the 
simplicity  of  His  being.”  That  last  huge  assumption  Locke  passed  by  as 
being  outside  his  range  of  criticism ; but,  even  admitting  it,  he  declined  to 
see  any  substance  in  the  pile  of  arguments  based  upon  it. 

“ This  reasoning,”  he  said,  “ seems  to  be  founded  on  this,  that  the  reason 
of  seeing  all  things  is  their  being  present  to  our  minds,  because  God,  in 
whom  they  are,  is  present.  This,  though  the  foundation  he  seems  to  build 
on,  is  liable  to  a very  natural  objection,  which  is,  that  then  we  should 
actually  see  all  things  because  in  God,  who  is  present,  they  are  all  actually 
present  to  the  mind.  This  he  has  endeavoured  to  obviate  by  saying  we  see 
all  the  ideas  in  God  which  he  is  pleased  ‘ to  discover  to  us  ’ : which,  indeed, 
is  an  answer  to  this  objection,  but  such  an  one  as  overturns  his  whole 
hypothesis,  and  renders  it  useless  and  as  unintelligible  as  any  of  those  he 
has  for  that  reason  laid  aside.  He  pretends  to  explain  to  us  how  we  come 
to  perceive  anything,  and  that  is,  by  having  the  ideas  of  them  present  in 
our  minds — for  the  soul  cannot  perceive  things  at  a distance  or  remote 
from  it,  and  those  ideas  are  present  to  the  mind  only  because  God,  in  whom 
they  are,  is  present  to  the  mind.  This,  so  far,  hangs  together  and  is  of  a 
piece  ; but  when,  after  this,  I am  told  that  their  presence  in  my  mind  is  not 
enough  to  make  them  be  seen,  but  God  must  do  something  further  to  dis- 
cover them  to  me,  I am  as  much  in  the  dark  as  I was  at  first,  and  all  this 
talk  of  their  presence  in  the  mind  explains  nothing  of  the  way  wherein  I 
perceive  them,  nor  ever  will,  till  he  also  makes  me  understand  what  God 
does  more  than  make  them  present  to  my  mind  when  he  discovers  them  to 
me.  For  I thin  nobody  denies — I am  sure  I affirm — that  the  ideas  we 
have  are  in  our  minds  by  the  will  and  power  of  God,  though  in  a way  that 
we  conceive  not  nor  are  able  to  comprehend.  God,  says  our  author,  is 
strictly  united  to  the  soul,  and  to  the  ideas  of  things  too  but  yet  that 


1695.  "I 
vEt.  62.  J 


ARGUMENTS  AGAINST  MALEBEANCHE. 


279 


presence  or  union  of  theirs  is  not  enough  to  make  them  seen,  but  God  must 
show  or  exhibit  them.  And  what  does  God  do  more  than  make  them 
present  to  the  mind  when  he  shows  them  ? Of  that  there  is  nothing  said, 
to  help  me  over  this  difficulty,  but  that,  when  God  shows  them,  we  see 
them ; which,  in  short,  seems  to  me  to  say  only  thus  much,  that,  when  we 
have  these  ideas,  we  have  them,  and  we  owe  the  having  them  to  our  Maker 
— which  is  to  say  no  more  than  I do  with  my  ignorance.  We  have  the 
ideas  of  figures  and  colours  by  the  operation  of  exterior  objects  on  our 
senses,  when  the  sun  shows  them  us  ; but  how  the  sun  shows  them  us,  or 
how  the  light  of  the  sun  produces  them  in  us,  what  and  how  the  alteration 
is  made  in  our  souls,  I know  not.  Nor  does  it  appear,  by  anything  our 
author  says,  that  he  knows  any  more  what  God  does  when  he  shows  them 
us,  or  what  it  is  that  is  done  in  our  minds,  since  the  presence  of  them  to 
our  minds,  he  confesses,  does  it  not.'’1 

That  paragraph  will  sufficiently  illustrate  Locke’s  mode  of  dealing  with 
Malebranche,  if  we  add  to  it  a sample  of  his  banter.  In  support  of  his 
argument  that  “ we  see  all  things  in  God,”  Malebranche  said,  “ The  strongest 
of  all  reasons  is  the  manner  in  which  the  mind  perceives  all  things.  It  is 
evident,  and  all  the  world  knows  it  by  experience,  that  when  we  would  think 
of  anything  in  particular,  we  at  first  cast  our  view  upon  all  beings,  and 
afterwards  we  apply  ourselves  to  the  consideration  of  the  object  which  we 
desire  to  think  on.”  “ This  argument,”  said  Locke,  “has  no  other  effect 
on  me  but  to  make  me  doubt  the  more  of  the  truth  of  this  doctrine.  This, 
which  he  calls  ‘ the  strongest  reason  of  all,’  is  built  upon  matter-of-fact, 
which  I cannot  find  to  be  so  in  myself.  I do  not  observe  that,  when  I 
would  think  of  a triangle,  I first  think  of  ‘ all  beings,’  whether  those  words 
‘ all  beings  ’ be  taken  here  in  their  proper  sense  or,  very  improperly,  for 
being  in  general.  Nor  do  I think  my  country  neighbours  do  so,  when  they 
first  wake  in  the  morning,  who,  I imagine,  do  not  find  it  impossible  to  think 
of  a lame  horse  they  have,  or  then-  blighted  corn,  till  they  have  run  over  in 
their  minds  all  beings  that  are,  and  then  pitch  on  Dapple,  or  else  begin  to 
think  of  being  in  general,  which  is  being  abstracted  from  all  its  inferior 
species,  before  they  come  to  think  of  the  fly  in  their  sheep  or  the  tares  in 
their  corn.”  2 

It  lias  already  been  mentioned  that  Molyneux  urged 
Locke  to  write  a treatise  on  ethics.  “ One  thing  I must 

1 ‘ An  Examination  of  Malebranche’s  Opinion,’  § 30. 

2 Ibid.  § 28. 


280 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[CHA.1-.  XIX. 


needs  insist  on  to  yon,”  lie  wrote  in  1692,  “ that  yon  would 
think  of  obliging  the  world  with  a treatise  of  morals, 
drawn  up  according  to  the  hints  yon  frequently  give  in 
your  ‘ Essay,’  of  their  being  demonstrable  according  to 
the  mathematical  method.”1 

“ Though,  by  the  view  I had  of  moral  ideas  whilst  I 
was  considering  that  subject,”  Locke  wrote  in  answer, 
“ I thought  I saw  that  morality  might  be  demonstrably 
made  out,  yet  whether  I am  able  so  to  make  it  out  is 
another  question.  Every  one  could  not  have  demon- 
strated what  Mr.  Newton’s  book  hath  shown  to  be 
demonstrable.  But  to  show  my  readiness  to  obey  your 
commands,  I shall  not  decline  the  first  leisure  I can  get 
to  employ  some  thoughts  that  way.”2 

Molyneux’s  request  was  repeated  several  times  and 
echoed  by  others.  “As  to  a treatise  of  morals,”  Locke 
said  in  1696,  “I  must  own  to  you  that  you  are  not  the 
only  person  who  has  been  for  putting  me  upon  it ; neither 
have  I wholly  laid  by  the  thoughts  of  it.  Nay,  I so  far 
incline  to  comply  with  your  desires,  that  I every  now  and 
then  lay  by  some  materials  for  it,  as  they  occasionally 
occur  in  the  rovings  of  my  mind.  But  when  I consider 
that  a book  of  offices,  as  you  call  it,  ought  not  to  be 
slightly  done,  especially  by  me,  after  what  I have  said 
of  that  science  in  my  ‘ Essay,’  and  that  1 nonumque 
prematur  in  annum  ’ is  a rule  more  necessary  to  be 
observed  in  a subject  of  that  consequence  than  in  any- 
thing Horace  speaks  of,  I am  in  doubt  whether  it  would 
be  prudent,  in  one  of  my  age  and  health,  not  to  mention 
other  disabilities  in  me,  to  set  about  it.  Did  the  world 
want  a rule,  I confess  there  could  be  no  work  so  necessary 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  5 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  27  August,  1692. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  10  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  20  Sept.,  1692. 


^2.]  A PROPOSED  TREATISE  ON  ETHICS.  281 

nor  so  commendable.  But  the  gospel  contains  so  perfect 
a body  of  ethics,  that  reason  may  be  excused  from  that 
inquiry,  since  she  may  find  man’s  duty  clearer  and  easier 
in  revelation  than  in  herself.  ' Think  not  this  the  excuse 
of  a lazy  man,  though  it  be  perhaps  of  one  who,  having  a 
sufficient  rule  for  his  actions,  is  content  therewith  and 
thinks  he  may  perhaps,  with  more  profit  to  himself, 
employ  the  little  time  and  strength  he  has  in  other 
researches  wherein  he  finds  himself  in  the  dark.”1 

To  that  decision  Locke  adhered,  and  his  talked-of 
treatise  never  got  beyond  the  noting  down  of  a few  rough 
“ materials  as  they  occasionally  occurred  in  the  rovings 
of  his  mind.”2 


“ You  write  to  me,”  Locke  said  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
Molyneux,  “as  if  ink  had  the  same  spell  upon  me  that 
mortar,  as  the  Italians  say,  has  upon  others,  that,  when  I 
had  once  got  my  fingers  into  it,  I could  never  afterwards 
keep  them  out.  I grant  that  methinks  I see  subjects 
enough,  wdiich  way  ever  I cast  my  eyes,  that  deserve  to 
be  otherwise  handled  than  I imagine  they  have  been  ; 
but  they  require  abler  heads  and  stronger  bodies  than  I 
have  to  manage  them.  Besides,  when  I reflect  on  what 
I have  done,  I wonder  at  my  own  bold  folly  that  has  so 
far  exposed  me  in  this  nice  and  critical,  as  well  as  quick- 
sighted  and  learned,  age.  I say  not  this  to  excuse  a lazy 
idleness  to  which  I intend  to  give  up  the  rest  of  my  few 
days.  I think  every  one,  according  to  what  way  Provi- 
dence has  placed  him  in,  is  bound  to  labour  for  the  public 
good  as  far  as  he  is  able,  or  else  he  has  no  right  to  eat.”3 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’ p.  143;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  30  March,  1696. 
3 Of  these  the  most  important  was  published  by  Lord  King,  pp.  306 — 312. 

2 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  71 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  19  Jan.,  1693-4. 


282 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


Locke  liad  certainly  already  earned  his  right  to  eat ; hut, 
if  lie  shrank  from  following  his  friend’s  advice  that,  as  soon 
as  the  work  involved  in  the  perfecting  of  his  ‘ Essay 
concerning  Human  Understanding  ’ was  over,  he  should 
apply  himself  to  the  preparation  of  a systematic  treatise 
on  ethics,  it  was  only  because  he  thought  there  was 
something  better  for  him  to  do.  That  thought  took 
shape  in  the  essay  on  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christ- 
ianity as  delivered  in  the  Scriptures,’  which  appears 
to  have  chiefly  occupied  him  during  the  early  months  of 
1695. 

Writing  to  Limborch,  a year  after  Locke’s  death,  Lady 
Masharn  said  of  him,  “ He  was  horn  and  had  finished 
his  studies  at  a time  when  Calvinism  was  in  fashion  in 
England.  But  these  doctrines  had  come  to  he  little 
thought  of  before  I came  into  the  world,  and  Mr.  Locke 
used  to  speak  of  the  opinions  that  I had  always  been 
accustomed  to  at  Cambridge,  even  among  the  clergy 
there,  as  something  new  and  strange  to  him.  As,  during 
some  years  before  he  wTent  to  Holland,  he  had  very  little 
in  common  with  our  ecclesiastics,  I imagine  that  the 
sentiments  that  he  found  in  vogue  among  you  pleased 
him  far  more  and  seemed  to  him  far  more  reasonable  than 
anything  that  he  had  been  used  to  hear  from  English 
theologians.  But,  whatever  the  cause,  I know  that  since 
his  return  he  has  always  spoken  with  much  affection  not 
only  of  his  friends  in  Holland  but  also  of  the  whole  society 
of  the  remonstrants,  on  account  of  the  opinions  held  by 
them.”1  Locke  had  wandered  far  from  Calvinistic  ortho- 
doxy long  before  he  made  personal  acquaintance  with  any 
of  the  remonstrants ; but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  his 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Lady  Masham  to  Limborcli,  17 
Sept.,  1705. 


2Et'962.]  * THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.’  283 

religious  opinions  were  to  some  extent  modified  under 
their  influence,  nor  can  it  be  doubted  that  they  were 
further  influenced  by  bis  intimate  association  with  Lady 
Masbam,  though  this  latter  may  only  have  encouraged 
him  to  talk  and  think  much  on  theological  matters 
without  greatly  affecting  his  views  upon  them. 

In  his  own  deep  religious  spirit,  however,  we  may  find 
sufficient  explanation  for  his  now  writing  on  “ the  reason- 
ableness of  Christianity,”  and  this  came  in  almost  natural 
sequence  to  the  work  he  had  already  done.  In  his  ‘ Essay 
concerning  Human  Understanding’  he  had  discussed 
more  or  less  fully  and  exhaustively  all  those  important 
questions  that  had  puzzled  the  old  schoolmen  and  still 
perplexed  their  successors,  including  some  questions 
that  metaphysicians  must  be  content  to  leave  unsolved 
unless  they  choose  to  seek  instruction  from  the  theolo 
gians.  In  his  ‘ Letter  concerning  Toleration  ’ he  had 
very  eloquently  and  boldly,  albeit  anonymously,  asserted 
the  right  of  every  one  not  only  to  choose  and  follow 
his  own  modes  of  religious  worship,  hut  also  to  think 
out  and  adhere  to  his  own  system  of  theological  belief. 
It  was  only  proper  that  he  should  now  set  forth  his 
opinions  on  what,  as  an  earnest  and  devout  Christian, 
he  regarded  as  the  most  momentous  of  all  religious 
questions. 

The  book  grew,  almost  by  accident,  out  of  Locke’s 
interest  in  the  controversy  then  rife  among  churchmen, 
Unitarians,  and  other  dissenters  about  “justification.” 
He  was  induced,  he  tells  us,  to  make  a careful  examin- 
ation of  the  New  Testament  in  order,  in  the  first  place, 
to  assure  himself  that  “ ’twas  faith  that  justified,”  and 
then  to  discover  “what  faith  that  was  that  justified,  what 
it  was  which,  if  a man  believed,  it  should  be  imputed  to 


284 


IN  RETIREMENT  I WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


{Chap.  XU. 


him  for  righteousness.”  He  was  soon  led  to  the  very- 
rational  view  set  forth  in  the  treatise,  though  one  so 
novel  that  he  was  justified  in  regarding  it  as  a discovery. 
“ The  first  view  I had  of  it,”  he  said,  “ seemed  mightily 
to  satisfy  my  mind  in  the  reasonableness  and  plainness  of 
this  doctrine  ; yet  the  general  silence  I had  in  my  little 
reading  met  with  concerning  any  such  thing  awed  me 
with  the  apprehension  of  singularity,  till,  going  on  in  the 
gospel  history,  the  whole  tenor  of  it  made  it  so  clear  and 
visible  that  I more  wondered  that  everybody  did  not  see 
and  embrace  it  than  that  I should  assent  to  what  was 
so  plainly  laid  down  and  so  frequently  inculcated  in  holy 
writ,  though  systems  of  divinity  said  nothing  of  it.  The 
wonderful  harmony  that,  the  farther  I went,  disclosed 
itself,  tending  to  the  same  points  in  all  the  parts  of  the 
sacred  history  of  the  gospel,  was  of  no  small  weight  with  me 
and  another  person” — evidently,  Lady  Masham — “who 
every  day,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  my  search,  saw 
the  progress  of  it,  and  knew  at  my  first  setting  out  that  I 
was  ignorant  whither  it  would  lead  me ; and,  therefore, 
every  day  asked  me  what  more  the  Scripture  had  taught 
me.  So  far  was  I from  the  thoughts  of  Socinianism,  or 
an  intention  to  write  for  that  or  any  other  party,  or  to 
publish  anything  at  all.  But,  -when  I had  gone  through 
the  whole,  and  saw  what  a plain,  simple,  reasonable 
thing  Christianity  was,  suited  to  all  conditions  and 
capacities,  and  in  the  morality  of  it,  now  with  divine 
authority  established  into  a legible  law,  so  far  surpassing 
all  that  philosophy  and  human  reason  had  attained  to, 
or  could  possibly  make  effectual  to  all  degrees  of  man- 
kind, I was  flattered  to  think  it  might  be  of  some  use  in 
the  world,  especially  to  those  who  thought  either  that 
there  was  no  need  of  revelation  at  all,  or  that  the 


^Et952.]  * THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.’ 


285 


revelation  of  our  Saviour  required  the  belief  of  such 
articles  for  salvation,  which  the  settled  notions  and 
their  way  of  reasoning  in  some,  and  want  of  under- 
standing in  others,  made  impossible  to  them.”  1 

Locke  did  not.  address  himself  to  those  who  denied  the  possibility  of  a 
revelation,  still  less  to  those  who  denied  the  existence  of  a being  able  to 
reveal  himself  by  inspiration  or  any  other  form  of  miracle.  He  expected 
his  readers  not  only  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  God,  but  also  to  accept 
the  Bible  as  the  word  of  God.  But,  under  those  conditions,  he  bade 
them  look  at  the  Bible  as  critically  as  they  would  at  any  other  book,  and 
derive  from  it  only  such  teaching  as  was  honestly  to  be  found  in  it ; it 
being,  he  maintained,  ‘ a collection  of  writings  designed  by  God  for  the 
instruction  of  the  illiterate  bulk  of  mankind  in  the  way  of  salvation,  and, 
therefore,  generally  and  in  necessary  points,  to  be  understood  in  the  plain 
direct  meaning  of  the  words  and  phrases,  such  as  they  may  be  supposed  to 
have  had  in  the  mouths  of  the  speakers,  who  used  them  according  to  the 
language  of  that  time  and  country  wherein  they  lived,  without  such 
learned,  artificial  and  forced  senses  as  are  sought  out  and  put  upon  them 
in  most  of  the  systems  jf  divinity,  according  to  the  notions  that  each  one 
has  been  bred  up  in.”  2 

In  that  temper  he  applied  himself  to  his  own  study  of  the  Bible,  and, 
though  his  special  concernment  was  with  the  New  Testament,  he  had  to 
begin  with  the  Old.  “ ’Tis  obvious  to  any  one  who  reads  the  New 
Testament,”  he  said,  “ that  the  doctrine  of  redemption,  and  consequently 
of  the  gospel,  is  founded  upon  the  supposition  of  Adam’s  fall.  To  under- 
stand, therefore,  what  we  are  restored  to  by  Jesus  Christ,  we  must  under- 
stand what  the  Scripture  shows  us  we  lost  by  Adam.”3  Locke’s 
exposition  of  this  subject  forms  the  most  original  part  of  his  treatise. 
“ What  Adam  fell  from,”  he  explained,  “was  the  state  of  perfect  obedience, 
which  is  called  justice  in  the  New  Testament,  though  the  word  which  in 
the  original  signifies  ‘justice’  be  translated  ‘righteousness;’  and  by  this 
fall  he  lost  Paradise,  wherein  was  tranquillity  and  the  tree  of  life,  that  is,  he 
lost  bliss  and  immortality.  The  sentence  passed  upon  him  was,  ‘ In  the 
day  that  thou  eatest  thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die.’  Death  did  not,  it  is 

I1  ‘A  Second  Vindication  of  “The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity”  ’ H697), 
Preface. 

2 ‘The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  ’ (1695),  p.  2. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  1. 


286 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


true,  at  once  destroy  our  first  parents,  but  they  were  excluded  from  the 
Garden  of  Eden,  and  doomed  to  mortality.  When  man  was  turned  out, 
he  was  exposed  to  the  toil,  anxiety,  and  frailties  of  this  mortal  life,  which 
should  end  in  the  dust  out  of  which  he  was  made,  and  to  which  he  should 
return,  and  then  have  no  more  sense  than  the  dust  had  out  of  which  he  was 
made.”  That  any  other  interpretation  should  be  put  upon  the  plain  words 
of  the  Bible,  Locke  held  to  be  altogether  monstrous.  “ Some  will  have  it 
to  be  a state  of  guilt  wherein  not  only  Adam,  but  all  his  posterity  was 
so  involved  that  every  one  descended  of  him  deserved  endless  torment  in 
hell-fire.  It  seems  a strange  way  of  understanding  a law,  which  requires 
the  plainest  and  directest  words,  that  by  death  should  be  meant  eternal  life 
in  misery.  Could  any  one  suppose  by  a law  that  says,  ‘ For  felony  thou 
shalt  die,’  not  that  he  should  lose  his  life,  but  be  kept  alive  in  perpetual, 
exquisite  torments  ? and  would  any  one  think  himself  fairly  dealt  with  that 
was  so  used  ? ” But  Locke  complained  that  a yet  worse  interpretation  is 
generally  put  upon  the  words.  God  said,  “ In  the  day  that  thou  eatest 
thou  shalt  die,”  and  men  dare  to  assert  that  he  meant  to  say,  “ Thou  and 
thy  posterity  shall  be  ever  after  incapable  of  doing  anything  but  what  is 
sinful  and  provoking  to  me,  and  shall  justly  deserve  my  wrath  and 
indignation.”  “ Could  a worthy  man  be  supposed  to  put  such  terms  upon 
the  obedience  of  his  subjects  ? much  less  can  the  righteous  God  be 
supposed,  as  a punishment  of  one  sin  wherewith  he  is  displeased,  to  put  a 
man  under  a necessity  of  sinning  continually,  and  so  multiplying  the 
provocation  ? I must  confess,  by  death  here,  I can  understand  nothing  but 
a ceasing  to  be,  the  losing  of  all  actions  of  life  and  sense.  Such  a death 
came  on  Adam  and  all  his  posterity  by  bis  first  disobedience  in  Paradise, 
under  which  death  they  should  have  lain  for  ever,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
redemption  by  Jesus  Christ.”1 

Adam  having  forfeited  immortality,  his  offspring  shared  his  mortality. 
That,  Locke  argued,  was  a misfortune,  but  not  a punishment.  What  was 
privation  to  Adam,  is  no  privation  to  men  who  come  into  the  world  with  no 
other  gift  than  “a  temporary,  mortal  life.”  “ Had  God  taken  from  mankind 
anything  that  was  their  right,  or  did  he  put  men  in  a state  of  misery  worse 
than  not  being,  without  any  fault  or  demerit  of  their  own,  this  indeed  would 
be  hard  to  reconcile  with  the  notion  we  have  of  justice,  and  much  more  with 
the  goodness  and  other  attributes  of  the  Supreme  Being,  which  he  has 
declared  of  himself,  and  reason  as  well  as  revelation  must  acknowledge  to 
be  in  him,  unless  we  will  confound  good  and  evil,  God  and  Satan.  That  such 


1 ‘The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity, ’ pp  .3 — 7. 


it962.]  “ ORIGINAL  SIN  ” AND  THE  REDEMPTION.  287 

a state  of  extreme  irremediable  torment  is  worse  than  no  being  at  all,  it 
every  one’s  sense  did  not  determine  against  the  vain  philosophy  and  foolish 
metaphysics  of  some  men,  yet  our  Saviour’s  peremptory  decision  has  put 
it  past  doubt,  that  one  may  be  in  such  an  estate  that  it  had  been  ‘ better  for 
him  not  to  have  been  born.’  But  that  such  a temporary  life  as  we  now  have, 
with  all  its  frailties  and  ordinary  miseries,  is  better  than  no  being,  is  evident 
by  the  high  value  we  put  upon  it  ourselves.”  1 

If  there  was  no  “ original  sin  ” to  be  exorcised,  what  was  the  purpose  of 
Christ’s  coming  ? To  restore  all  mankind  to  life.  “ As  in  Adam  all  die,  so 
in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive.”  The  gift  of  immortality  is  again  offered 
to  mankind,  and  all  who  choose  may  take  it.  “ The  wages  of  sin  is  death,” 
and  if  we  choose  to  go  on  sinning,  we  must  die  ; but  we  can  live  for  ever  if 
we  will.  “ Here  then  we  have  the  standing  and  fixed  measures  of  life  and 
death.  Immortality  and  bliss  belong  to  the  righteous  ; those  who  have 
lived  in  an  exact  conformity  to  the  law  of  God  are  out  of  the  reach  of  death  ; 
but  an  exclusion  from  paradise  and  loss  of  immortality  is  the  portion  of 
sinners,  of  all  those  who  have  anjr  way  broke  that  law,  and  failed  of  a 
complete  obedience  to  it  by  the  guilt  of  any  one  transgression.”  2 

But  Christ  came  to  do  more  than  that.  He  supplemented  the  old  law  of 
works,  “ that  law  which  requires  perfect  obedience,  without  any  remission 
or  abatement,”  by  the  law  of  faith,  in  which  “ faith  is  allowed  to  supply  the 
defects  of  full  obedience,  and  so  the  believers  are  admitted  to  life  and  immor- 
tality, as  if  they  were  righteous.”  The  law  of  works  is  “ the  law  of  nature, 
knowable  by  reason,”  interpreted,  with  special  applications  adapted  to  their 
special  circumstances,  by  Moses  to  the  Jews,  but  intelligible  to  every  man 
who  uses  those  powers  of  reason  with  which  he  is  endowed.  The  law  of 
faith  consists  in  trustful,  prayerful  belief  in  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God, 
and,  among  all  to  whom  the  Messiah  reveals  himself,  in  belief  in  him.3 

Concerning  the  nature  of  Christ’s  messiahship,  Locke  wrote  at  great 
length,  supporting  his  views  by  a vast  number  of  quotations  from  the  Bible. 
Christ  came  primarily  to  the  Jews,  but  also  to  the  whole  world,  in  fulfilment 
of  the  prophecies  contained  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  and  in  satisfaction  of 
the  more  or  less  articulate  longings  of  all  mankind,  as  the  great  messenger 
from  heaven  commissioned  to  show  how  men  might  recover  the  lost  privi- 
lege of  eternal  life.  Christ  “the  anointed,”  and  Messiah  “ the  appointed,” 
are  identical  titles.  The  son  of  Joseph  was,  by  his  miraculous  parentage, 
at  once  the  Son  of  God,  representing  the  maker  of  the  world,  and  the  Son 


1 ‘The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  pp.  8,  9. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  13.  3 Ibid.,  pp.  14,  15. 


288 


IN  EETIEEMENT  : WOEK  AS  AN  ATJTHOE. 


[Chap.  Xir. 


of  man,  representing  the  world  that  had  been  made.  To  the  Jews  he  was 
the  Son  of  David  and  the  King  of  Israel,  though  in  a way  that  they  refused 
to  understand  ; to  the  Jews  and  all  others  he  was  the  Saviour  and  the  Judge, 
the  bringer  of  God’s  message  of  mercy  to  mankind,  with  power  to  decide 
whether  each  individual  in  the  universe  had  deserved  the  gift  of  eternal  life 
and  bliss,  or,  refusing  that  gift,  must  be  left  under  the  old  doom  of  death. 
That,  and  that  only,  Locke  urged,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible,  the  substance 
of  the  “new  testament.”  Christ’s  life  and  death,  all  his  miracles  and 
sayings,  all  the  prophecies  about  him,  and  all  the  sermons  of  his  apostles, 
attest  it. 

Locke  was  at  pains  to  show  how  unwarrantable  were  the  assumptions  of 
such  documents  as  the  Athanasian  creed,  and  to  clear  away  from  pure 
Christianity  all  the  polytheistic,  or  at  any  rate  tri-theistic  and  di-theistic, 
tendencies  by  which  it  had  been  corrupted.  But — in  accumulating  evidence 
to  show  that  the  Bible,  in  its  authentic  text  as  far  as  we  can  arrive  at  it, 
furnishes  no  shadow  of  a pretext  for  the  assertion  that  Jesus,  the  Messiah, 
endowed  with  superhuman  faculties  and  powers  as  God’s  agent  for  the 
redemption  of  mankind,  ever  assumed  to  himself  any  title  or  office  deroga- 
tory to  the  unity  of  God — Locke  never  lost  sight  of  the  nature  and 
object  of  the  mission  that,  as  the  Bible  showed  him,  this  Messiah  came  to 
perform. 

That  mission  he  found,  as  has  already  been  noted,  to  consist  in  the  bringing 
back  of  eternal  life  to  the  world,  and  in  offering  it,  on  easier  terms  than 
were  proposed  to  Adam,  to  all  of  Adam’s  offspring  who  chose  to  accept  it. 
The  prime  condition  of  acceptance,  he  insisted,  lies  in  the  recognition  of 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  of  a Christ,  and  of  this  only  true  Christ,  as  the  mes- 
senger and  minister  of  God’s  grace  to  the  world.  “ All  that  was  to  be 
believed  for  justification  was  no  more  but  this  single  proposition,  that  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  was  the  Christ,  or  the  Messiah.”  But  a good  deal  else  was 
required  “ to  be  done  for  justification.”  Mere  belief,  however  thorough,  is 
of  no  avail  without  repentance.  “ Besides  believing  him  to  be  the  Messiah, 
their  King,  it  was  required  that  those  who  would  have  the  privilege,  advan- 
tage, and  deliverance  of  his  kingdom,  should  enter  themselves  into  it,  and, 
by  baptism  being  made  denizens,  and  solemnly  incorporated  into  that  king- 
dom, live  as  became  subjects  obedient  to  the  laws  of  it.”  “ Life,  eternal 
life,  being  the  reward  of  justice  or  righteousness  only,  appointed  by  the 
righteous  God  to  those  only  who  had  no  taint  or  infection  of  sin  upon  them, 
it  is  impossible  that  he  should  justify  those  who  had  no  regard  to  justice 
at  all,  whatever  they  believed.  This  would  have  been  to  encourage  iniquity, 


1695.  I 

62. J 


THE  MISSION  OF  CHRIST. 


289 


contrary  to  the  purity  of  his  nature,  and  to  have  condemned  that  eternal  law 
of  right  which  is  hoty,  just,  and  good,  of  which  no  one  precept  or  rule  is 
abrogated  or  repealed,  nor,  indeed,  can  he  whilst  God  is  a holy,  just  and 
righteous  God,  and  man  a rational  creature.  The  duties  of  that  law,  arising 
from  the  constitution  of  his  very  nature,  are  of  eternal  obligation  ; nor  can 
it  be  taken  away,  or  dispensed  with,  without  changing  the  nature  of  things, 
or  overturning  the  measures  of  right  and  wrong,  and  thereby  introducing 
irregularity,  confusion,  and  disorder  in  the  world.  Christ’s  coming  into  the 
world  was  not  for  such  an  end  as  that,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  reform  the 
corrupt  state  of  degenerate  man,  and,  out  of  those  who  would  mend  their 
lives  and  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance,  erect  a new  kingdom.”  The 
law  of  faith  does  not  displace  the  law  of  works.  It  only  provides  that  they 
who  humbly  and  in  a contrite  spirit  believe  in  Christ,  and  who  prove  the 
reality  of  their  belief  by  doing  all  they  can  to  live  righteous  lives,  shall  be 
forgiven  for  their  frailties  and  weaknesses,  and  have  righteousness  imputed 
to  them.1 

What  that  righteousness  is,  Locke  maintained,  may  be  abundantly  and 
sufficiently  learnt  from  the  Bible.  Christ  came  to  complete  the  law,  “ by 
giving  its  full  and  clear  sense,  free  from  the  corrupting  and  loosening  glosses 
of  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,”  and  out  of  his  teaching  may  be  built  up  the 
most  complete  and  comprehensive  code  of  ethics  possible  to  us,  containing 
in  their  most  perfect  form  all  the  moral  precepts  of  the  Mosaic  law,  which 
were  identical  with  the  law  of  nature  or  the  law  of  reason.  It  is  unfortunate 
that  Locke  did  not  substantiate  this  bold  thesis.  In  the  course  of  his 
work,  however,  he  quoted  enough  from  the  teaching  and  example  of  Christ 
to  show  what  an  excellent  standard  of  Christian  duty  was  thereby  afforded. 
“ Our  Saviour  not  only  confirmed  the  moral  law,  and  showed  the  strictness  as 
well  as  obligation  of  its  injunctions,  but,  moreover,  upon  occasion  requires  the 
obedience  of  his  disciples  to  several  of  the  commands  he  afresh  lays  upon 
them.  There  is  not,  I think,  any  of  the  duties  of  morality  which  he  has 
not,  somewhere  or  other,  by  himself  and  his  apostles,  inculcated  over  and 
over  again  to  his  followers  in  express  terms.”2 

We  may  fairly  regret  that  Locke  did  not,  in  discussing 
“ the  reasonableness  of  Christianity,”  treat  more  fully  of 
its  ethical  aspects.  But  this  appears  to  have  been  no  part 
of  his  purpose  in  writing  the  book.  He  wrote  it,  not  to 

1 1 The  Keasonableness  of  Christianity,’  pp.  210 — 213. 

* Ibid,.,  p.  231. 

Vol.  II.— 19 


290 


IN  RETIREMENT : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


convert  unbelievers,  or  to  elaborate  any  dogmatic  system 
of  theology  or  religion,  but  to  controvert  what  seemed  to 
him  the  most  offensive  dogmas  of  those  who  claimed  to 
be  the  only  true  believers,  and  especially  of  the  self-styled 
orthodox  members  of  the  church  of  England. 

It  was  accepted  in  that  light.  Immediately  after  its 
publication  in  the  summer  of  1695,  it  was  met  with  a 
storm  of  abuse.  “ The  buzz  and  flutter  and  noise  which 
was  made,  and  the  reports  which  were  raised,”  Locke  said 
himself,  “would  have  persuaded  the  world  that  it  subverted 
all  morality,  and  was  designed  against  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. I must  confess,  discourses  of  this  kind,  which  I 
met  spread  up  and  down,  at  first  amazed  me,  knowing  the 
sincerity  of  those  thoughts  which  persuaded  me  to  publish 
it,  not  without  some  hope  of  doing  some  service  to  decay- 
ing piety  and  mistaken  and  slandered  Christianity.”1 

One  of  these  discourses,  probably  the  only  one  that 
appeared  at  that  time  in  print,  was  included  in  ‘ Some 
Thoughts  concerning  the  Several  Causes  and  Occasions 
of  Atheism,  especially  in  the  Present  Age,’  by  John 
Edwards,  a very  intemperate  and  pugnacious  clergyman, 
who  afterwards  became  a nonconformist.  Twenty  pages 
of  the  book,  which  appeared  only  two  or  three  months 
after  Locke’s  work,  were  devoted  to  coarse  condemnation 
of  it ; and  this  attack  was  all  the  more  unwelcome  to 
Locke  because,  although  the  work  had  been  published 
anonymously,  Edwards  openly  referred  to  him  as  “ the 
ingenious  gentleman  who  is  supposed  to  be  the  author  of 
this  treatise.”2  He  was  here  charged,  not  only  with 
Socinianism,  but  even  with  atheism.  He  had  reason  to 
be  angry  with  his  critic,  but  he  showed  his  anger  so 

1 ‘ A Vindication  of  “ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  ” ’ (1695). 

2 Edwards,  ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Atheism’  (1695),  p.  114. 


OPPOSITION  TO  LOCKE’S  THEOLOGY. 


291 


1695-6.  1 

Ml.  62— 63  J 


plainly  as  to  do  some  damage  to  his  nw  dignity,  in  the 
short  ‘ Vindication  ’ — twice  as  long,  however,  as  Edwards’s 
chapter — which  he  published  without  delay. 

Neither  Edwards’s  attack  nor  Locke’s  ‘ Vindication 
claims  much  notice  here,  as  they  hardly  at  all  affected 
the  position  of  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  ’ in£ 
theological  literature.  Locke  re-asserted  those  of  his 
opinions  and  assertions  ' that  had  been  assailed,  and 
insisted  upon  their  strict  accordance  with  the  plain 
meaning  of  the  Bible.  He  indignantly  repudiated  other 
opinions  and  assertions  that  Edwards  had  invented  for  him. 
He  vehemently  denied  that  there  was  any  Socinianism 
or  atheism,  or  any  “ cause  of  atheism,”  to  be  found  in  his 
book.  And  he  scornfully  protested  against  the  vulgar 
personalities,  and  unseemly  jokes,  and  “ declamatory  rhe- 
toric,” in  which  his  antagonist  had  indulged. 

Edwards  appears,  however,  to  have  been  well  pleased 
at  finding  that  Locke  had  consented  to  make  any  reply  at 
all  to  his  attack,  as  an  excuse  was  thus  given  to  him  for 
renewing  it.  This  he  did  ; and  other  assailants  followed. 

‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  indeed,  when  it 
was  known  to  have  been  written  by  the  author  of  ‘ An 
Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  was  the 
prime  cause  of  all  the  controversy  in  which  Locke  came 
to  be  involved.  Of  that  we  shall  have  to  take  account  in 
a later  chapter. 

Anxious  that  it  should  be  anonymous,  Locke  appears  to 
have  told  none  of  his  friends  that  he  was  writing  this 
book.  Edwards  had  charged  him  with  the  authorship, 
however,  and,  though  he  parried  the  charge  very  cleverly, 
the  secret  could  not  he  kept.  “I  find  by  some  little 
pieces  I have  lately  met  with,”  Molyneux  wrote  to  him 
in  June,  1696,  “ that  you  are  the  reputed  author  of  ‘ The 


292 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


Reasonableness  of  Christianity.’  Whether  it  he  really  so 
or  not  I will  not  presume  to  inquire,  because  there  is  no 
name  to  the  book.  This  only  I will  venture  to  say  on 
that  head,  that  whoever  is  the  author,  or  vindicator 
thereof,  he  has  gotten  as  weak  an  adversary  in  Mr. 
Edwards  to  deal  with  as  a man  could  wish.  So  much 
unmannerly  passion  and  Billingsgate  language  I have 
not  seen  any  man  use.”1 

“What  you  say  of  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity’” 
Locke  replied,  “ gives  me  occasion  to  ask  your  thoughts 
of  that  treatise,  and  also  how  it  passes  amongst  you 
there” — in  Dublin  ; “for  here,  at  its  first  coming  out, 
it  was  received  with  no  indifferency,  some  speaking  of  it 
with  great  commendation,  but  most  censuring  it  as  a 
very  bad  book.  What  you  say  of  Mr.  Edwards  is  so 
visible  that  I find  all  the  world  of  your  mind.”2  “As  to 
‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,”’  Molyneux  wrote 
back,  “ I do  not  find  but  ’tis  very  well  approved  of  here 
amongst  candid  unprejudiced  men  that  dare  speak  their 
thoughts.  I’ll  tell  you  what  a very  learned  and  ingenious 
prelate  said  to  me  on  that  occasion.  I asked  him  whether 
he  had  read  that  book,  and  how  he  liked  it.  He  told  me 
very  well,  and  that,  if  my  friend  Mr.  Locke  writ  it, 
’twas  the  best  book  he  ever  laboured  at ; ‘ But,’  says  he, 

‘ if  I should  be  known  to  think  so,  I should  have  my  lawns 
torn  from  my  shoulders.’”3 

Locke  had  better  excuse  for  desiring  not  to  be  known 
as  the  author  either  of  this  book  or  of  the  ‘ Letters  con- 
cerning Toleration,’  than  can  be  found  for  the  bishop 
who  agreed  with  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’ 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’ p.  149  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  6 June,  1696. 

2 Ibid. , p.  157  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  4 August,  1696. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  168  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  26  Sept.,  1696. 


^t6963.]  ‘ THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.’  293 

but  dared  not  say  so  publicly,  for  fear  of  being  unfrocked. 
He  held  no  brief  for  the  creeds  and  dogmas  of  the  estab- 
lished church,  and  therefore  could  not  be  accused  of 
secretly  entertaining  one  set  of  opinions  while  professing 
another.  But  he  knew  that  the  ‘ Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding  ’ was  his  most  important  work, 
and  the  one  most  likely  to  be  of  permanent  value  to  the 
world  ; and  in  it  he  had  started  so  many  heresies  and  pro- 
voked so  many  prejudices,  that  he  was  hound  to  protect  it 
as"far  as  possible  from  any  additional  prejudices  that 
might  be  stirred  up  against  it  because  of  the  additional 
heresies  of  its  author. 


Our  review  of  Locke’s  miscellaneous  occupations,  as 
far  as  they  can  be  traced,  has  been  brought  down  only  to 
the  spring  of  1692-3,  when  he  began  to  be  especially  busy 
in  literary  ways.  During  the  next  two  years  or  more  he 
made  good  use  of  his  retirement  at  Oates,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  preparing  old  manuscripts  for  the  press,  and  in 
doing  much  new  work  ; and,  though  he  paid  many  short 
visits  to  London,  these  appear  to  have  been  chiefly 
occupied  in  supervising  printers’  work  and  in  other 
employment  incidental  to  authorship.  We  have  at  any 
rate  only  stray  notices  of  his  engagement  in  other  ways. 

“ I have  for  a long  time  been  intending  to  send  you  a 
very  full  letter,”  he  wrote  from  London  to  Limborch, 
in  June,  1693,  “ but  have  not  been  able  to  find  leisure  for 
it,  and  now  that  I have  been  called  to  town  by  pressing 
business,  I can  hardly  get  time  for  even  this  short  note. 
I wrote  to  you  last  winter,  enclosing  a letter  from  the 
archbishop,  and  since  then  have  heard  nothing  from  you. 


294 


IN  EETIEEMENT  : W0EK  AS  AN  AUTHOE. 


[Chap.  XII. 


I know  not  whether  our  letters  crossed  one  another ; but 
this  I do  know,  that  I could  not  have  endured  so  long  a 
silence,  had  I not  felt  quite  sure  of  your  friendship. 
Write  as  soon  as  you  can  to  tell  me  that  you  are  well 
and  have  not  forgotten  us,  and  let  me  know  whether  you 
received  the  volume  of  English  sermons  which  the  arch- 
bishop sent  through  me.  Remember  me  to  your  excellent 
wife  and  your  children.”  1 

Locke  was  in  London  again  in  November,  when  he 
wrote  another  letter  to  Limborch,  confessing  that  he 
had  lately  been  a bad  correspondent,  but  assuring  him 
that  his  neglect  was  due  not  to  any  lack  of  friendly  feel- 
ing, but  to  the  constant  strain  of  work  upon  his  weakly 
body. 2 The  work  lasted  through  the  winter,  but,  carefully 
looked  after  by  Lady  Masham  and  the  other  members  of 
the  Oates  household,  his  body  seems  to  have  been  none 
the  worse  for  it. 

He  was  tempted  in  the  spring  to  make  London  his 
home  again,  and,  though  he  did  not  do  that,  the  political 
changes  that  then  occurred,  by  which  the  whigs  were 
restored  to  the  chief  place  in  King  William’s  councils, 
began,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  to  provide  fresh  work 
for  him  in  the  service  of  the  state.  “ Have  you  heard  of 
our  late  whiggish  promotion  wuthout  admiration?”  the 
Earl  of  Monmouth  wrote  to  him  at  Easter  from  Parson’s 
Green.  “Whether  to  congratulate  with  your  friends,  or 
to  see  the  silly  looks  of  the  enemy,  I suppose  you  will 
give  us  one  week  in  town.  There  is  a little  philosophical 
apartment  quite  finished  in  the  garden  that  expects  you, 
and  if  you  will  let  me  know  when  you  will  come,  it  will 
not  be  the  least  inconvenience  to  me  to  send  my  coach 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  8 June,  1693. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  347  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  10  Nov.,  1693. 


VISITS  TO  LONDON. 


1993-4.  1 

Mt.  60 — 61.  J 


295 


twenty  miles  out  of  town  to  meet  you,  and  make  your 
journey  more  easy.”  1 

Whether  Locke  accepted  that  invitation  is  not  recorded; 
hut  he  spent  some  two  months  in  London  in  the  early 
summer  of  1694,  and  in  the  last  week  of  June  he  took 
part  in  a very  memorable  business  that  was  brought 
to  completion  in  consequence  of  the  “ whiggish  pro- 
motion.” 

William  Paterson  had  for  three  years  past  been  ad- 
vocating his  project  for  organising  a corporation  which 
should  raise  a sum  of  1,200,000Z.  to  be  lent  to  the  crown 
at  eight  per  cent,  interest,  and  which,  in  return  for  that 
sorely  needed  assistance,  should  have  power  to  deal  in 
hills  of  exchange,  bullion,  and  forfeited  notes,  provided 
it  carried  on  no  other  trade  in  its  corporate  capacity. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  the  Bank  of  England,  esta- 
blished, amid  much  opposition,  by  an  act  of  parliament 
which  was  endorsed  by  the  king  on  the  25th  of  April,  and 
endowed  with  a charter  which  was  completed  on  the  27th  of 
July,  1694.  We  are  not  told  that  Locke  took  much  interest 
in  the  early  history  of  this  famous  project ; hut  this  may 
almost  be  assumed  from  the  very  substantial  interest  that 
we  know  him  to  have  taken  in  it  when  it  was  completed. 
The  subscription  list  for  the  capital  of  the  new  bank  was 
opened  on  the  20th  of  June.  “ Tuesday  last,”  that  is, 
on  the  26th,  he  said  in  a letter  written  on  the  Saturday 
to  Clarke,  “I  went  to  see  our  friend  J.  E.” — apparently 
John  Freke.  “ Upon  discourse  with  him,  he  told  me  he 
had  subscribed  300Z.,  which  made  me  subscribe  500Z. ; 
and  so  that  matter  stands.  Last  night  the  subscriptions 
amounted  to  1,100,000Z.,  and  to-night  I suppose  they  are 
all  full.  Mr.  Freke  talks  of  going  out  of  town  Monday, 
1 Lord  King,  p.  237  ; Monmouth  to  Locke,  25  March,  1694. 


296 


IN  RETIREMENT  t WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  Xtl. 


and  I shall  go  Tuesday.”  1 It  would  almost  seem  that 
a main  reason  for  Locke’s  paying  this  visit  to  London 
was  his  desire  to  take  part  in  the  establishment  of  the 
bank,  of  which  he  now  became  one  of  the  original  pro- 
prietors. 

A letter  that  he  wrote  a few  weeks  after  he  had 
gone  hack  to  Oates  reminds  us  that,  amid  all  his  other 
occupations,  he  still  took  a lively  interest  in  medical 
affairs,  and  continued  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of 
medical  men.  Dr.  Hans  Sloane,  his  junior  by  twenty- 
eight  years,  and  not  made  a baronet  till  1716,  was  now 
a rising  physician  in  London,  and  secretary  of  the  Loyal 
Society.  He  had  probably  been  known  to  Locke  for  some 
time,  hut  we  are  first  informed  of  their  acquaintance  by 
this  letter,  in  which  he  made  precise  inquiries  concerning 
a disease  from  which  a woman  whom  Sloane  attended  had 
died,  and  in  which  he  also  asked  some  questions  about  im- 
perfect plants  and  equivocal  generation  in  the  vegetable 
kingdom.  “It  is  very  kindly  done  of  you,”  Locke  said, 
“ to  send  me  some  news  from  the  commonwealth  of 
letters  into  a place  where  I seldom  meet  with  anything 
beyond  the  observation  of  a scabby  sheep  or  a lame 
horse.”2  That  was  hardly  polite  to  Lady  Masham,  or 
her  step-daughter  Esther. 

About  Locke’s  intimate  relations  with  Lady  Masham 
we  have  too  few  details.  But  we  just  now  obtain  some 
welcome  insight  into  his  relations  with  the  younger 
lady.  Esther  Masham,  a bright  and  amiable  girl,  who 
lived  to  be  a bright  and  amiable  old  maid,  was  nineteen 
years  old  in  1694.  Full  of  life  and  fun,  as  well  as  of  good 
sense  and  sober  thought,  as  fond  of  serious  study  as  of 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  30  June,  1694. 

2 Ibid.,  no.  4052;  Locke  to  Sloane,  14  Sept.,  1694. 


LAUDABRIDIS. 


297 


1694.  I 

At.  01. J 

French  romances,  she  had  won  a place  in  Locke’s  heart 
and  learnt  to  nestle  there  during  the  years  they  passed 
together  at  Oates.  She  had  come  to  be  one  of  those 
adopted  sisters,  wives  or  daughters,  by  whose  honest 
affection  Locke’s  bachelorhood  seems  to  have  been 
cheered  at  almost  every  stage  of  his  life.  “In  raillery 
he  used  to  call  me  his  Laudabridis,  and  I called  him  my 
John,”  she  proudly  wrote  many  years  afterwards.  Often 
Laudabridis  was  shortened  into  Dab  or  Dib,  and  in  one 
letter  at  any  rate  Locke  signed  himself,  instead  of  the 
usual  Joannes,  as  Celadon  the  Solitary — “ alluding,” 
Esther  explained,  “ to  the  romance  of  ‘ Astraea  ’ I used 
to  read  to  him  after  supper.”1 

As  they  were  so  much  together  during  the  thirteen 
years  of  their  intimacy,  there  was  probably  not  much 
occasion  for  letters  to  pass  between  them,  but  we  have 
four  written  by  Locke  during  the  second  half  of  1694,  and 
these  will  now  be  quoted.  The  first  was  written  from 
Oates  in  July  under  circumstances  that  Laudabridis 
herself  thus  explained  : “ Being  at  this  time  in  Hunting- 
donshire with  my  Lady  Bernard,  formerly  Mrs.  Wilding, 
now  married  to  Sir  John  Bernard,  I writ  to  Mr.  Locke. 

1 In  1722  Esther  Masham  sorted  all  her  old  letters,  and  before  destroying 
them — “ to  prevent  them  becoming  pie-papers,  serving  to  setup  candles,  or, 
at  best  being  made  thread-papers,”  as  she  said — began  to  copy  all  the  more 
important  ones,  including  ten  written  by  Locke,  into  a large  note-book,  to 
which  a “volume  two”  had  afterwards  to  be  added.  These  manuscript 
volumes,  entitled  hy  her  “Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends  to  E.  Masham,” 
and  containing  copies  of  a hundred  and  thirty-eight  letters,  are  now  in  the 
possession  of  Miss  Palmer,  of  Holme  Park,  near  Reading,  to  whom  I am 
greatly  indebted  for  permission  to  copy  from  them  the  letters  that  will  be 
given  in  the  next  few  pages  and  afterwards.  In  1773  the  second  Lord 
Masham,  Esther’s  nephew,  sold  Oates  to  Mr.  Palmer,  from  whom  Miss 
Palmer  is  descended,  and  thus  some  of  its  treasures  have  been  preserved, 
too  many  having  been,  it  would  seem,  irretrievably  lost. 


298 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII. 


Having  heard  a rich  widow  had  been  visiting  at  Oates,  I 
pretended  to  be  jealous  of  her;  upon  which  he  sent  me 
the  following  letter  ” : — 

“ The  greatest  good  the  widow  is  ever  like  to  do  me  is  the  having  pro- 
cured me  a letter  from  my  Laudabridis,  and  giving  me  the  opportunity  to 
let  you  know  you  possess  the  conquest  you  have  made  by  a power  that  will 
hold  it  against  any  widow  coming  with  her  hundred  thousands.  A heart 
that  you  think  worth  looking  after  cannot  but  be  yours,  and  where  gratitude 
joins  with  inclination  to  make  good  your  title,  you  need  not  fear  a little 
absence  ; only  I wish  you  would  shorten  it  as  much  as  you  could.  For, 
though  I shall  not  fail  you,  yet  I shall  sutler  for  want  of  you,  and  the  more 
faithful  I am,  the  less  can  I bear  the  want  of  your  company.  Your  letter 
satisfies  me  as  much  as  you  can  desire  that  you  are  not  indifferent  whether 
you  lose  me  or  no.  Let  your  return  satisfy  me  that  ’tis  tenderness  to  me 
more  than  glorying  over  your  rival  that  makes  you  look  after  me.  For,  if 
she  steal  me  not  away,  yet,  if  your  absence  kill  me,  ’twill  be  but  an  odd  way 
of  expressing  your  kindness  to  your  Joannes,  who  having  satisfied  you  that 
he  is  proof  against  money,  the  temptation  of  old  men,  you  ought  to  remove 
his  doubts  that  the  pride  and  triumph  which  so  usually  acccompany  youth 
and  beauty  in  a young  lady  do  not  make  a great  part  of  that  care  wherewith 
you  hedge  me  in  from  the  widow.  If  you  think  me  to  blame  for  this  sus- 
picion, you  should  not  have  showed  me  the  example.  If  jealousy  be  allow- 
able in  either,  it  will  be  more  excusable  in  my  age  and  experience  than  in 
your  gaiety.  But  a little  touch  of  it  sometimes  does  well,  and  is  sauce  to 
affection,  and  I take  yours  kindly  as  you  have  managed  it.  I suspect  my 
daughter 1 more  than  you,  but  not  your  way.  But  she  has  so  little  ill  in  her 
that  I cannot  take  amiss  anything  she  does  or  designs.  Remember  me  very 
kindly  to  her,  if  she  be  with  you  still,  and  give  my  most  humble  service  to 
Sir  Robert  and  my  lady  and  all  the  rest  of  your  good  company.  Everybody 
here  is  well,  and  want  you — Bully  2 and  all. 

“ I am,  madam,  your  most  humble  and  most  faithful  servant, 

“ Joannes.”  3 


1 “ My  cousin  Frances  Compton,  then  married  to  Mr.  William  St.  John. 
She  used  to  call  Mr.  Locke  father.” — Esther  Masham’s  note. 

2 “ Bully  was  a dog  of  mine.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

3 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  vol.  i.,  pp.  8 — 10;  Locke  to  Esther 
Masham,  23  July,  1694. 


1694.  ~] 

2Et.  61.  J 


LETTERS  TO  ESTHER  MASHAM. 


299 


Laudabridis  stayed  so  long  in  Huntingdonshire  that  her 
“ faithful  servant  ” had,  four  weeks  afterwards,  to  write 
her  another  playful  letter  : — 

“ Though  I wish  mightily  for  your  company,  and  I see  you  could  be 
content  with  mine,  yet  I could  be  pleased  you  should  relish  the  cream  of 
the  country  you  are  in,  and  to  heighten  the  gusto  I wish  you  strawberries 
to  it.  For  those  who  have  the  goodness  not  to  dislike  me  when  they  are 
with  me,  and  to  think  on  me  when  absent,  I would  not  have  uneasy  when 
they  are  out  of  my  sight.  Let  my  Laudabridis  therefore  be  as  merry  as  she 
can  every  day,  and  know  that  I partake  in  it ; but  now  and  then  mix  a kind 
thought  of  her  Joannes.  So  he  does  here  on  his  side  of  her  to  preserve 
himself  the  better  for  her  sake,  since  she  thinks  him  worth  the  taking  care 
for.  Pray,  when  you  return,  bring  a little  summer  with  you,  if  you  intend 
to  do  anything  in  the  garden  with  your  John.  For  we  have  had  nothing 
but  winter  weather  since  you  went,  and  I write  this  by  the  fireside,  whither 
the  blustering  wind  and  rain  like  December  has  driven  me.  I hope  for  a 
new  spring  when  you  come  back,  and  to  be  as  merry  as  the  birds  then  are 
when  they  have  their  mates  ; only  I desire  to  be  excused  from  singing — that 
part  shall  be  yours. 

“ Had  you  been  at  our  church  1 yesterday,  there  was  one  would  have 
put  you  to  it  to  have  kept  pace  and  time  with  him.  He  sang  the  poor  clerk 
out  of  his  beloved  ‘ Behold  and  have  regard,’  and  made  him  lose  both  voice 
and  tune.  Would  you  had  been  here  to  have  stood  up  for  the  credit  of  our 
parish  which  gave  up  to  a stranger. 

“Everybody  here  is  in  health,  but  wants  you.  In  the  meantime  you  are 
kindly  remembered  by  all. 

“I  am  perfectly  your  most  affectionate  and  most  humble  servant, 

“ Joannes. 

“ Pray  my  service  to  Sir  Robert,  my  lady,  and  the  rest  of  your  good 
company.” 2 

Locke  was  in  London  when  Esther  returned  to  Oates, 
and  he  wrote  to  her  again  at  the  beginning  of  October. 

1 High  Laver  church,  a mile  south  of  Oates,  and  then  connected  with  it 
by  a carriage  drive. 

2 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  pp.  10 — 12  ; Locke  to  Esther 
Masham,  20  August,  1694. 


300  IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap.  XII. 

“ I take  it  amiss  of  my  stars  that  they  should  order  me  to  be  out  of  the 
way  when  my  Laudabridis,  whom  I had  so  long  languished  for,  returned. 
I will  not  say  whether  it  was  because  you  made  too  little  haste,  or  your 
Joannes  too  much.  But  this  I know,  it  had  been  much  more  to  my  satis- 
faction and  advantage  if  you  had  stole  home  and  caught  me  napping,  than, 
by  leaving  me  forlorn  so  long,  exposed  me  to  a journey  that  looked  t’other 
way.  This  yet  ought  not  to  make  you  suspect  that  anybody  has  stolen  me, 
or,  if  they  have,  you  need  not  much  be  troubled  at  it  whilst  you  have  my 
heart  with  you  at  Oates ; for,  without  that,  what  a purchase  they  will  have, 
in  such  a carcase  as  mine,  you  may  judge.  If  you  value  your  John  so  much 
as  you  say,  and  I cannot  but  believe  you  sincere,  he  is  not  such  a fool  as  to 
change  you  for  the  Indies.  For  that  has  nothing  that  can  purchase  love, 
especially  such  as  yours  is,  which  can  have  no  temptation  but  the  great 
esteem  and  affection  I have  for  you.  You  may  believe  then  that  I shall 
make  all  the  haste  I can  to  even  our  long  account  of  absence,  and  compare 
thoughts  and  wishes  and  sighs,  and  having  quitted  that  score,  begin  a new 
one  of  mirth  and  laughing  and  kind  words  one  to  another,  with  now  and 
then  a song  amongst. 

“ I hope  you  are  not  much  troubled  that  you  have  not  your  full  foddering 
as  you  used  to  have.1  As  to  singing,  there  be  those  in  the  parish  will  tell 
you  you  lost  the  perfection  of  that  by  your  wandering.  Had  you  been  at 
home  when  I wished,  you  had  had  something  beyond  the  ordinary  strain  of 
‘Behold  and  have  regard.’  But  you  must  be  gadding  and  make  us  sad 
under  those  heavenly  strains,  for  they  were  heavenly  too. 

“ To  be  serious,  I am  extremely  glad  that  you  are  safe  and  well  returned, 
exceedingly  obliged  to  you  for  the  favour  of  your  letter,  and  shall  make 
haste  to  Oates  to  tell  you  how  much  I am  your  obedient 

“ Joannes. 

“ If  you  had  been  charitable,  you  would  have  sent  me  some  commission 
or  other.”  2 

A few  days  after  writing  thus  Locke  found  himself 
obliged  to  hasten  hack  to  Oates,  before  whatever  business 

1 “ This  alludes  to  Mr.  Low,  then  minister  of  our  parish,  who  had  taken  a 
fancy  he  should  die  in  the  pulpit,  therefore  left  off  preaching,  and  for  a con- 
siderable time  got  his  neighbouring  clergymen  to  give  him  a sermon  only  in 
the  afternoon.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

2 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  pp.  12 — 14  ; Locke  to  Esther 
Masham,  2 Oct.,  1C94. 


•J®9!.]  LETTERS  TO  ESTHER  MASHAM.  301 

he  had  to  do  was  completed,  not  merely  to  tell  his  sweet- 
heart how  he  was,  but  to  he  nursed  by  her.  “ I thank 
God,”  he  wrote  to  Edward  Clarke  soon  after  his  return, 
“ the  country  air  begins  a little  to  relieve  me  from  those 
impressions  that  were  made  on  my  lungs  by  the  London 
smoke,  which  I perceive  I must  not  make  too  bold  with 
at  this  time  of  the  year.”  1 Business  forced  him  back  to 
town  again  for  a week  in  December,  however  ; and  though 
ill  and  harassed  there,  he  found  opportunity  for  writing 
this  short  letter  to  Laudabridis. 

“ A little  house  and  a little  furniture  must  serve  young  beginners  as  you 
and  I are,  dear  Laudabridis.  Besides,  my  stock  will  not  reach  to  much, 
being  not  furnished  with  compliment  or  history  to  fill  out  a large  spread  of 
paper.  And  you  know  there  needs  not  many  words  to  express  a great  deal 
of  affection,  respect  and  esteem,  where  it  is  as  real  as  mine  is,  and  affects 
not  to  make  a show.  I saw  the  Major2  to-day.  He  told  me  Mr.  Masham3 
was  well,  and  that  he  should  not  go  to  the  West  Indies.4  This,  I thought, 
would  be  welcome  news  to  you,  and  so  could  not  forbear  to  put  it  into  my 
letter  ; but  leave  it  to  his  to  explain  to  you  the  particulars  more  fully,  for  I 
reproached  him  for  not  writing  to  you,  and  made  him  promise  me  he  would 
do  it  this  night.  Pray  give  my  humble  service  to  all  at  Oates  and  Matching 
Hall,  and  let  Totty  5 know  I expect  he  should  say  something  to  me  by  you 
in  your  next.  I am,  madam,  your  most  humble  and  obedient  servant, 

“ J.  Locke.”  6 

Locke  was  not  able  to  run  away  from  his  friends  at 
Oates  for  some  time  after  getting  back  to  them  in  Decem- 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  15  Oct.,  1694. 

2 “ My  brother  Henry.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

3 “ My  brother  William.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

4 “ ’Twas  said  the  regiment  my  brother  Henry  belonged  to  was  com- 
manded to  the  West  Indies.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

5 “ Totty  was  a nickname  was  given  to  my  brother  Francis  Cudworth 
Masham,  when  he  was  a boy.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

6 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  pp.  15,  16 ; Locke  to  Esther 
Masham,  2 Dec.,  1694. 


302 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


rcn*p.  XII. 


ber.  “ This  cold  winter,”  he  wrote  in  the  following  March 
to  Molyneux,  “ has  kept  me  so  close  a prisoner  within 
doors  that,  till  yesterday,  I have  been  abroad  but  once 
these  three  months,  and  that  only  a mile  in  a coach.”1 
It  was  chiefly,  if  not  altogether,  during  those  months 
of  confinement  that  he  wrote  * The  Eeasonableness  of 
Christianity.’ 

For  some  portion  of  the  time  he  had  for  a guest  the 
brother  of  his  little  “ wife,”  Betty  Clarke,  the  same  lad 
in  whose  interests  he  had  written  long  before  the  letters 
that  were  expanded  into  £ Some  Thoughts  concerning 
Education.’  “ I hope,”  he  wrote  to  Clarke  a fortnight 
after  Christmas,  “ this  airing  of  your  son,  these  holidays 
in  the  country,  will  be  convenient  for  his  health,  and  no 
prejudice  to  his  learning.  He  was  welcome  to  everybody 
here,  and  particularly  to  me  ; and  I am  glad  to  find  him 
such  a proficient  in  the  Latin,  from  which  I conclude  that 
in  a little  time  now  he  will  be  master  of  that  tongue. 
But  schools  I see  still  are  schools,  and  make  schoolboys. 
I say  this  to  make  you  observe  whether  it  be  not  to  be 
apprehended  that  the  main  benefit  of  a dancing-master 
will  be  lost,  though  he  dance  constantly  two  or  three 
times  a week,  if  those  who  ought  to  have  the  constant 
care  of  him  in  every  part  do  not  look  after  and  mind  his 
postures,  carriage  and  motions  when  he  is  out  of  the 
dancing-master’s  hands ; for,  without  that,  the  steps  and 
figures  of  dances  I think  of  no  value.”  2 

Locke  had  been  expecting  another  visitor  this  Christ- 
mas time.  Molyneux  had  already,  it  would  seem,  come 
to  be  almost  a dearer  friend  to  him  than  Limborch,  but 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  98 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  8 March, 
1694-5. 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  11  Jan.  [1694-5j. 


LETTERS  TO  WILLIAM  MOLYNEUX. 


303 


111*-; 

AW 


li2.  J 


they  had  never  yet  seen  one  another,  and  both  men 
looked  eagerly  to  the  meeting,  for  which  Molyneux  had 
arranged  to  come  to  England  in  December.1  He,  how- 
ever, like  Locke,  had  delicate  health,  and  being  unwell 
now,  Locke  urged  him  not  to  make  the  journey,  although, 
as  he  said,  he  “ coveted”  it  none  the  less.  “A  rational, 
free-minded  man,  tied  to  nothing  but  truth,  is  so  rare  a 
thing  that  I almost  worship  such  a friend.  I cannot  but 
exceedingly  wish  for  that  happy  day  when  I may  see  a 
man  I have  so  often  longed  to  have  in  my  embraces.”2 

“ You  cannot  think,”  Locke  added  in  the  same  letter, 
“ how  often  I regret  the  distance  that  is  between  us.  I 
euvy  Dublin  for  what  I every  day  want  in  London.  Were 
you  in  my  neighbourhood,  you  would  every  day  be  troubled 
with  the  proposal  of  some  of  my  thoughts  to  you.  I find 
mine  generally  so  much  out  of  the  way  of  the  books  I 
meet  with,  or  men  led  by  books,  that,  were  I not  con- 
scious to  myself  that  I impartially  seek  truth,  I should 
be  discouraged  from  letting  my  thoughts  loose,  which 
commonly  lead  me  out  of  the  beaten  track.  However,  I 
want  somebody  near  me,  to  wThom  I could  freely  commu- 
nicate them,  and,  without  reserve,  lay  them  open.  I 
should  find  security  and  ease  in  such  a friend  as  you,  were 
you  within  distance ; for  your  judgment  would  confirm 
and  set  me  at  rest,  where  it  approved,  and  your  candour 
would  excuse  what  your  judgment  accused  and  set  me 
right  in.”3 

“ I cannot  complain,”  he  said  in  another  letter,  “ that 
I have  not  my  share  of  friends  of  all  ranks,  and  such 
whose  interest;,  assistance,  affection,  and  opinions  too, 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  91 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  18  Dec.,  1694. 

a Ibid.,  p.  98;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  8 March,  1694-5. 

3 Ibid. 


304 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XII 


in  lit  cases,  I can  rely  on.  But  metliinks,  for  all  this, 
there  is  one  place  vacant,  that  I know  nobody  that 
would  so  well  fill  as  yourself.  I want  one  near  me  to 
talk  freely  with  £ de  quolibet  ente,’  to  propose  to  the 
extravagances  that  rise  in  my  mind  ; one  with  whom  I 
would  debate  several  doubts  and  questionings,  to  see  what 
was  in  them.  Meditating  by  one’s  self  is  like  digging  in 
the  mine.  It  often,  perhaps,  brings  up  maiden  earth 
which  never  came  near  the  light  before ; but  whether  it 
contain  any  metal  in  it  is  never  so  well  tried  as  in  conver- 
sation with  a knowing,  judicious  friend  who  carries  about 
him  the  true  touchstone,  which  is  love  of  truth,  in 
a clear-thinking  head.  Men  of  parts  and  judgment  the 
world  usually  gets  hold  of,  and,  by  a great  mistake  that 
their  abilities  of  mind  are  lost  if  not  employed  in  the 
pursuit  of  wealth  or  power,  engages  them  in  the  ways  of 
fortune  or  interest,  which  usually  have  but  little  freedom 
or  leisure  of  thought  for  pure  disinterested  truth ; and 
such  who  give  themselves  up  frankly  and  in  earnest  to  the 
full  latitude  of  real  knowledge  are  not  easily  to  be  met 
with.  Wonder  not,  therefore,  that  I wish  so  much  for 
you  in  my  neighbourhood.  I should  be  too  happy  in  a 
friend  of  your  make,  were  you  within  my  reach.”  1 

“ This  long  winter  and  cold  spring,”  Locke  said  in  the 
same  letter,  written  at  the  end  of  April,  “has  hung  very 
heavy  upon  my  lungs,  and  they  are  not  yet  in  a case  to  be 
ventured  in  London  air.”  He  appears  at  this  time  to 
have  been  in  some  alarm  as  to  the  issue  of  his  life-long 
illness,  and  his  friends  were,  perhaps,  even  more  alarmed 
than  he  was.  His  friend  Edward  Clarke,  at  any  rate,  had 
evidently  urged  him  to  make  his  will.  “That  which  you 
say  of  my  will,”  he  wrote  back,  “ satisfies  me  how  little 
1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  108;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  26  April,  1695. 


1695.  1 
S.t.  62.  J 


AT  OATES  AND  IN  LONDON, 


305 


I must  rely  on  my  memory.”1  If  he  did  make  a will 
now,  it  was  cancelled  by  another  one  dated  nine  years 
later. 

In  Locke’s  next  letter  to  Clarke  we  have  one  of  many 
allusions  to  their  mutual  friend  John  Freke,  whom  they 
generally  in  their  correspondence  termed  “ the  bachelor,” 
and  who  was  evidently  a member  of  some  private  club  or 
society  in  London,  known  among  them  as  “ the  college,” 
in  which  various  matters,  political  and  social,  perhaps 
also  philosophical  and  religious,  were  from  time  to  time 
discussed.  “ I am  not  at  all  pleased,”  he  said,  “ with  the 
news  of  the  bachelor’s  designed  journey.  Half  the  satis- 
faction I have  in  being  in  London  will  be  lost  if  he  be  out 
of  the  way  when  I am  there.  Let  me  know  when  he 
intends  to  go,  and  wdien  return  from  Bath.  My  breath 
is  yet  short.  I know  not  how  long  stay  it  will  permit  me 
in  town,  and  I must  husband  my  time  there  as  well  as  I 
can.  I have  something  w'hich  I would  gladly  propose  and 
have  debated  in  the  college.”  2 

Clarke  appears  to  have  replied  that  the  bachelor  had 
already  gone  to  Bath.  “ It  will  fall  out  extremely  ill,” 
Locke  wrote  a week  later,  “if  I should  miss  you  too  in 
town  when  I come  thither.  The  weather  and  my  busi- 
ness are  neither  of  them  yet  ripe  for  it ; for  I write  this 
by  the  fireside,  and  know  not  how  I shall  bear  the 
London  air.”  3 

In  June  Locke  spent  two  or  three  weeks  in  London, 
but  he  was  soon  driven  back  to  Oates.  “ The  impressions 
of  the  last  severe  winter  on  my  weak  lungs,  and  the  slo  w 
return  of  warm  weather  this  spring  detained  me  long  in 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  3 May,  1G95. 

2 llrid.,  Locke  to  Clarke,  17  May,  1695. 

3 Ibid.,  Locke  to  Clarke,  25  May,  1695. 

Vol.  II.— 20 


306 


IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR. 


[Chap.  XTI. 


the  country,”  lie  wrote  tlience  to  Molyneux  at  the  begin- 
ning of  July.  “I  shall  not  be  at  quiet  till  some  business 
brings  you  into  England,  and  brings  me  a satisfaction  to 
the  most  earnest  of  all  my  desires.  My  decaying  health 
does  not  promise  me  any  long  stay  in  this  world.  You 
are  the  only  person  in  it  that  I desire  to  see  once,  and  to 
converse  some  time  with,  before  I leave  it.  I wish  your 
other  occasions  might  draw  you  into  England  and  then 
let  me  alone  to  husband  our  time  together.  I have  laid 
all  that  in  my  head  already.  But  I talk  my  desires  and 
fancies  as  if  they  were  in  view.”  1 

Locke  paid  at  least  two  other  short  visits  to  London 
during  1695,  one  in  August,2  and  one  in  October  and 
November;3  hut  he  appears  to  have  passed  nearly  the 
whole  of  this  year  very  quietly  at  Oates,  though  not 
without  taking,  as  we  shall  see,  a lively  interest  and  a 
leading  part  in  at  any  rate  two  questions  of  extreme 
importance  to  the  public  welfare.  His  last  visit  was 
broken  in  upon  by  private  trouble.  Lady  Masham’s 
mother,  Hr.  Cudworth’s  widow,  died  on  the  15th  of 
November,  at  the  age  of  seventy-two.  Locke  only 
hurried  down  to  Oates  in  time  to  attend  her  burial,  and, 
it  is  reported,  to  write  this  epitaph  to  be  placed  over  her 
grave,  in  High  Laver  churchyard  : — “ Hamaris  Cudwortli, 
exemplary  for  her  piety  and  virtue,  for  her  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  charity  to  the  poor,  and  goodwill  to  all,  an 
excellent  wife,  mother,  mistress,  and  friend,  lies  buried 
in  the  middle  between  this  and  the  opposite  wall.  After 
a life  made  easy  to  herself  and  others  by  the  unalterable 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  119;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  2 July,  1695 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  24  August,  1695. 

3 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  125  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  16  November, 
1695. 


AT  OATES  AND  IN  LONDON. 


307 


1695-6.1 
J3t.  63. J 

evenness  of  her  temper,  she  died  as  one  that  goes  to  sleep, 
without  disease  or  pain,  in  full  hope  and  expectation  of  a 
happy  resurrection.” 

Locke  was  himself  very  ill  this  winter  of  1695-6 — “not 
without  some  apprehensions  of  my  life,”  he  said  in  a 
letter  to  Molyneux ; 1 but  he  intended  to  live  as  long  as 
he  could,  and  life  to  him  meant  work.  Public  affairs 
were  now  claiming  much  of  his  thought,  and  he  was 
planning  a more  systematic  attention  to  them,  and  a more 
constant  residence  in  London,  than  he  found  to  be  possible. 
“ I intend  to  be  in  town  as  soon  as  the  weather  is  hut  so 
warm  that  I leave  off  fires,”  he  wrote  to  Clarke  in  the 
third  week  in  May.  “It  is  now  with  us  perfect  winter 
weather,  and  I write  this  by  the  fireside.  Warm  weather 
cannot  now  be  far  off.  But,  however  that  may  happen, 
pray  give  me  at  least  a week’s  warning,  and  as  much 
longer  as  is  possible,  before  the  day  set  for  your  journey 
into  the  country ; for  I must  needs  see  you,  and  have 
many  things  to  say  to  you,  and  therefore  will  venture 
my  lungs  a little  sooner  than  otherwise  I would  in  town, 
not  to  miss  the  opportunity  of  kissing  your  hands.  Else, 
not  knowing  how  long  I may  be  detained  there,  I would, 
if  I could,  have  so  much  warm  weather  as  to  get  off  the 
remainder  of  my  cough  before  I venture  into  that  inimic 
air.”2 

Before  we  follow  him  to  London,  however,  we  may 
here  take  note  of  one  amusing  illustration  of  the  interest 
that  he  felt  in  all  sorts  of  out-of-the-way  as  well  as  in- 
the-way  subjects.  It  'would  seem  that  the  Earl  of  Pem- 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’ p.  141;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  30  March 
1696. 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  18  May  [1696].  Locke, 
■who  occasionally  made  similar  mistakes,  dated  this  letter  1689. 


308  IN  RETIREMENT  : WORK  AS  AN  AUTHOR.  [Chap.  XU. 

broke  was  auxions  for  information  on  freemasonry,  and 
especially  anxious  to  know  the  contents  of  an  old  docu- 
ment entitled  “ Certeyn  Questyons,  with  answers  to  the 
same,  concerning  the  Mystery  of  Maconrye ; written  by 
the  hands  of  Kynge  Henrye,  the  sixthe  of  the  name,  and 
faithfully  copyed  by  me,  Johan  Leylande,  Antiquarius,  by 
the  commands  of  his  Highnesse  ” — his  Highness  being 
Henry  the  Eighth.  “ I have  at  length,”  Locke  wrote  on 
the  6tli  of  May,  1696,  “ by  the  help  of  Mr.  Collins,  pro- 
cured a copy  of  that  manuscript  in  the  Bodleian  Library, 
which  you  were  so  curious  to  see,  and,  in  obedience  to 
your  commands,  I herewith  send  it  to  you.  Most  of  the 
notes  annexed  to  it  are  what  I made  yesterday  for  the 
reading  of  my  Lady  Masham,  who  is  become  so  fond  of 
masonry  as  to  say  that  she  now  more  than  ever  wishes 
herself  a man  that  she  might  be  capable  of  admission  into 
the  fraternity.  I know  not  what  effect  the  sight  of  this 
old  paper  may  have  on  your  lordship,  but  for  my  own 
part  I cannot  deny  that  it  has  so  much  raised  my  curiosity 
as  to  induce  me  to  enter  myself  into  the  fraternity,  which 
I am  determined  to  do,  if  I may  be  admitted,  the  next 
time  I go  to  London.”  Of  course  that  letter  is  satirical, 
and  Locke’s  resolution  was  as  unsubstantial  as  Lady 
Masham’s  wish.  The  frivolous  contents  of  the  old  manu- 
script could  convert  no  one,  or  at  any  rate  no  sensible 
person  ; but  Locke’s  learned  historical  and  philosophical 
notes  sufficiently  attest  his  “ curiosity.”1 


1 Hutchinson,  ‘ The  Spirit  of  Masonry  ’ (1775),  Appendix,  pp.  1 — 17. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


In  the  Service  of  the  State, 
[1695—1700.] 


HOUGH  Locke  resolved  to  have  as  little  as  possible 


to  do  with  politics  from  the  time  when  the  Earl  of 
Carmarthen  became  William  the  Third’s  chief  adviser, 
with  Sir  John  Trevor,  the  new  speaker  of  the  house  of 
commons,  for  his  willing  agent  in  wholesale  bribery  and 
national  demoralisation,  neither  his  own  patriotic  temper 
nor  that  of  his  friends  allowed  him  to  keep  clear  of  busi- 
ness. While  at  Oates  he  continued  to  watch  closely  the 
course  of  public  affairs,  and  during  these  years  of  retire- 
ment and  special  devotion  to  literary  pursuits  he  spoke 
out  by  proxy,  on  at  least  some  of  the  great  questions 
that  had  to  he  decided,  quite  as  emphatically  and  expres- 
sively as  he  could  have  done  had  he  been  living  constantly 
within  the  purlieus  of  Whitehall,  or  personally  taking 
part  in  the  debates  and  divisions  at  Westminster.  For 
occasional,  if  not  very  regular,  exponents  of  his  opinions 
in  the  house  of  lords,  he  had  the  Earl  of  Monmouth  and 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke.  And  in  the  commons  house  he 
undoubtedly  had  many  zealous  disciples  and  spokesmen 
besides  the  two,  Edward  Clarke  and  Lord  Ashley,  about 
whom  we  are  best  informed,  and  whom  we  know  most 
positively  to  have  sought  his  guidance  as  to  their  action 
in  political  affairs.1 

1 It  is  not  clear  whether  the  following  letter  had  special  reference  to 


310 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


Tlie  two  ablest,  most  honest,  and,  ultimately,  most 
influential  statesmen  in  the  house  of  commons  may  be 
looked  upon  as,  in  at  least  some  respects,  his  disciples. 
We  have  no  extant  correspondence,  for  this  period, 
between  him  and  Sir  John  Somers — who  in  May,  1692, 
exchanged  the  solicitor-generalship  for  the  attorney- 
generalship,  and  in  the  following  March  became  lord 
keeper  of  the  great  seal— but  in  his  correspondence  with 

public  business,  but  it  may  be  taken  as  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which 
Locke  acted  as  counsellor,  and  on  occasion  and  in  courteous  style  as  the  dic- 
tator, of  men  taking  an  active  part  in  politics.  It  is  addressed  to  Sir 
Edward  Harley,  the  father  of  the  great  statesman  of  Queen  Anne’s  reign 
who  became  Earl  of  Oxford.  For  a transcript  of  the  original,  among  the 
Marquis  of  Bath’s  papers  at  Longleat,  I am  indebted  to  Canon  Jackson. 

“ London,  25  Sept.,  ’94. 

“ Sir, — Though  I cannot  doubt  but  you  are  assured  there  is  nobody 
more  your  servant  than  I,  yet  I cannot  but  think  a letter  from  me,  especially 
of  the  kind  this  will  be,  will  somewhat  surprise  you.  For  it  is  no  less  than 
to  desire  you  lay  by  all  that  country  business  which  you  had  reserved  to 
the  little  time  is  now  between  this  and  the  parliament,  and  to  come  up  to 
town  immediately.  So  bold  a presumption  as  this,  without  farther  explain- 
ing myself,  will  possibly  appear  very  odd  to  you,  and  I myself  think  it  so 
extravagant  that  I should  not  venture  to  send  it  you  were  I not  satisfied  I 
should  be  able  to  justify  myself  to  you  for  having  done  it  when  you  come 
to  town,  and  should  condemn  myself  for  having  failed  in  that  respect  and 
service  which  I owe  you  if  I had  done  otherwise.  It  is  but  a little  antici- 
pating your  journey  up  to  the  parliament,  and  I conclude  you  will,  when 
you  are  here,  think  it  time  not  lost.  I therefore  earnestly  press  you  again, 
and,  if  you  do  not  think  me  a vain  man,  I beseech  you  to  believe  that  I 
would  not  have  writ  to  you  after  this  fashion  had  I not  had  some  reason. 
I should  be  very  glad  to  see  you  here  without  any  answer.  But,  if  you 
think  fit  to  honour  me  with  a line  or  two,  pray  let  it  be  to  assure  me  of 
your  being  speedily  here. 

“ I am,  sir,  your  most  humble  and  most  faithful  servant, 

“ J.  Locke. 

“ I lodge  at  Mr.  Pawling's,  over  against  the  Plough  Inn,  in  Little  Lincoln’s 
Inn  Fields.” 


it°k]  POLITICAL  FRIENDS  AND  DISCIPLES.  311 

others  we  find  frequent  allusions  to  their  interviews,  and 
from  what  we  know  of  their  antecedent  and  subsequent 
relations  we  may  safely  assume  that  those  interviews 
were  supplemented  by  letters,  and  that  the  younger  man 
now,  as  at  other  times,  took  frequent  counsel  with  the 
elder  one  on  the  difficult  business  that  came  before  him. 
When  Locke  made  acquaintance  with  Charles  Montagu — 
who  was  made  Baron  Halifax  in  1701  and  Earl  of  Halifax 
in  1714,  and  who  was  ten  years  younger  than  Somers, 
thirty  years  younger  than  Locke — we  do  not  know,  nor 
have  we  any  record  of  their  connection  before  1695 ; but 
there  can  hardly  be  any  doubt  that  the  acquaintance 
began  in  1689,  when  Montagu  was  a member  of  the 
convention  parliament,  and  was  continued  from  that 
time.  Certain  it  is,  at  any  rate,  that  in  nearly  all  their 
political  action  both  Somers  and  Montagu  were  actuated 
by  the  principles  that  Locke  advanced,  and  gave  utterance 
to  opinions  with  which  he  agreed.  In  two  very  important 
reforms,  effected  while  Locke  resided  chiefly  at  Oates,  we 
are  able  to  trace  his  hand  ; though  the  details  of  the  first, 
as  regards  the  whole  subject  as  well  as  Locke’s  part  in  it, 
are  unfortunately  very  scanty. 

That  the  church  had  a right  to  control  the  printing 
and  publishing  of  books,  was  an  assumption  as  old  as  the 
invention  of  the  printing-press,  and  when,  under  Henry 
the  Eighth,  the  church  became  a limb  of  the  state,  it 
was  not  strange  that  the  state  should  have  arrogated  this 
function  to  itself.  Scholarship  and  general  education,  as 
well  as  freedom  of  opinion,  suffered  grievously,  with 
benefit  to  no  one  but  the  monopolists  of  the  stationers’ 
company,  but  with  hardly  a note  of  protest,  for  a century 
and  a half  before  the  famous  “ decree  of  star  chamber 
concerning  printing”  was  issued  in  1637,  to  be  followed 


312 


IN  THE  SEKVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


in  1643  by  the  “ order  of  tbe  lords  and  commons  for  the 
regulating  of  printing,”  which  provoked  Milton’s  splendid 
condemnation.  Charles  the  Second’s  licensing  act  was 
more  stringent  than  any  of  its  predecessors,  and,  enforced 
as  it  had  been  hy  James  the  Second’s  agents,  it  might 
have  been  supposed  that  it  would  have  been  one  of  the 
first  monuments  of  Stuart  tyranny  to  be  overturned  by 
William  the  Third.  James  Fraser  quietly  replaced  Sir 
Roger  Lestrange,  however,  as  censor,  and,  as  Fraser  used 
his  office  temperately,  suppressing  nothing  but  tory  sedi- 
tion, the  act,  which  lapsed  in  1693,  was  actually  then 
renewed  for  two  years,  no  regard  being  paid  to  the  mild 
petitions  sent  in  by  the  printers,  booksellers  and  book- 
binders, and  the  feeble  opposition  of  the  tones. 

What  Locke,  who  was  at  Oates  at  the  time,  thought 
of  that  proceeding  is  not  recorded,  but  we  have  a very 
important  paper  which  he  drew  up  some  time  after, 
probably  in  the  spring  of  1694-5,  when  parliament  was 
considering  whether  the  act  should  be  again  renewed  or 
should  be  allowed  to  disappear  from  the  statute  book. 
He  here  scornfully  criticised,  one  after  another,  all  the 
chief  clauses  of  the  act. 

“Heretical,  seditious,  schismatical,  or  offensive  books,”  said  the  second 
section  of  the  act,  “ wherein  anything  contrary  to  Christian  faith  or  the 
doctrine  or  discipline  of  the  church  of  England  is  asserted,  or  which  may 
tend  to  the  scandal  of  religion,  or  the  church,  or  the  government,  or  gover- 
nors of  the  church,  state,  or  of  any  corporation,  or  particular  person,  are 
prohibited  to  be  printed,  imported,  published,  or  sold.”  “ Some  of  these 
terms,”  Locke  urged,  “ are  so  general  and  comprehensive,  or  at  least  so 
submitted  to  the  sense  and  interpretation  of  the  governors  of  church  and 
state  for  the  time  being,  that  it  is  impossible  any  book  should  pass  but  just 
what  suits  their  humours.  And  who  knows  but  that  the  motion  of  the 
earth  may  be  found  to  be  heretical,  as  asserting  antipodes  once  was  ? I 
know  not  why  a man  should  not  have  liberty  to  print  whatever  he  would 
speak ; and  to  be  answerable  for  the  one,  just  as  he  is  for  the  other,  if  he 


^t6962.]  ARGUMENTS  FOR  LIBERTY  OF  THE  PRESS, 


313 


transgresses  the  law  in  either.  But  gagging  a man,  for  fear  he  should  talk 
heresy  or  sedition,  has  no  other  ground  than  such  as  will  make  gyves 
necessary,  for  fear  a man  should  use  violence  if  his  hands  were  free,  and 
must  at  last  end  in  the  imprisonment  of  all  who,  you  will  suspect,  may  be 
guilty  of  treason  or  misdemeanour.  To  prevent  men  being  undiscovered 
for  what  they  print,  you  may  prohibit  any  hook  to  be  printed,  published,  or 
sold  without  the  printer’s  or  bookseller’s  name,  under  great  penalties, 
whatever  be  in  it.  And  then  let  the  printer  or  bookseller  whose  name  is 
to  it  be  answerable  for  whatever  is  against  law  in  it,  as  if  he  were  the 
author,  unless  he  can  produce  the  person  he  had  it  from,  which  is  all  the 
restraint  ought  to  be  upon  printing.”  That  suggestion,  it  should  be  noted, 
was  adopted  in  the  law  now  in  force. 

Locke  commented  at  some  length  upon  the  mischievous  effect  of  the  act 
in  conferring  upon  the  stationers’  company  a monopoly  in  the  publication 
of  most  of  the  classics,  supplemented  by  such  a heavy  tax  upon  foreign 
editions  that  it  was  almost  impossible  for  poor  scholars  to  procure  them, 
and  they  had  to  be  content,  if  they  could  afford  to  pay  the  high  price 
charged  even  for  these,  with  the  English  “authorised”  editions  “scanda- 
lously ill-printed,  both  for  letter,  paper,  and  correctness.”  “ Upon  occasion 
of  this  instance  of  the  classic  authors,”  he  added,  “I  demand  whether,  if 
another  act  for  printing  should  be  made,  it  be  not  reasonable  that  nobody 
should  have  any  peculiar  right  in  any  book  which  has  been  in  print  fifty 
years,  but  any  one  as  well  as  another  might  have  the  liberty  to  print  it ; 
for  by  such  titles  as  these,  which  lie  dormant  and  hinder  others,  many 
good  books  come  quite  to  be  lost.  But,  be  that  determined  as  it  will  in 
regard  of  those  authors  who  now  write  and  sell  their  copies  to  booksellers, 
this  certainly  is  very  absurd  at  first  sight,  that  any  person  or  company 
should  now  have  a title  to  the  printing  of  the  works  of  Tully,  Caesar,  or 
Livy,  who  lived  so  many  ages  since,  in  exclusion  of  any  other ; nor  can 
there  be  any  reason  in  nature  why  I might  not  print  them  as  well  as  the 
company  of  stationers,  if  I thought  fit.  This  liberty,  to  any  one,  of  printing 
them,  is  certainly  the  way  to  have  them  the  cheaper  and  the  better  ; and 
it  is  this  which,  in  Holland,  has  produced  so  many  fair  and  excellent 
editions  of  them,  whilst  the  printers  all  strive  to  outdo  one  another,  which 
has  also  brought  in  great  sums  to  the  trade  of  Holland,  whilst  our  com- 
pany of  stationers,  having  the  monopoly  here  by  this  act  and  their  patents, 
slobber  them  over  as  they  can  cheapest,  so  that  there  is  not  a book  of  them 
vended  beyond  seas,  both  for  their  badness  and  dearness  ; nor  will  the 
scholars  beyond  seas  look  upon  a book  of  them  now  printed  at  London,  so 


314 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XTII. 


ill  and  false  are  they.  Besides,  it  would  be  hard  to  find  how  a restraint  of 
printing  the  classic  authors  does  any  way  prevent  printing  seditious  and 
treasonable  pamphlets,  which  is  the  title  and  pretence  of  this  act.” 

The  arbitrary  and  unjust  restrictions  upon  freedom  in  printing,  he  further 
urged,  were  injurious,  not  only  to  printers  and  purchasers,  but  also,  as  a 
necessary  consequence  of  that,  to  the  book  trade  of  the  country.  “ The 
restraint  of  presses  and  taking  of  apprentices,  and  the  prohibition  of  taking 
or  using  any  journeymen  except  Englishmen  and  freemen  of  the  trade,  is 
the  reason  why  our  printing  is  so  very  bad,  and  yet  so  very  dear  in  Eng- 
land ; they  who  are  hereby  privileged,  to  the  exclusion  of  others,  working 
and  setting  the  price  as  they  please,  whereby  any  advantage  that  might  be 
to  the  realm,  by  this  manufacture  is  wholly  lost  to  England,  and  thrown  into 
the  hands  of  our  neighbours  ; the  sole  manufacture  of  printing  bringing  into 
the  Low  Countries  great  sums  every  year.  But  our  ecclesiastical  laws 
seldom  favour  trade,  and  he  that  reads  this  act  with  attention  will  find  it 
upse  ” — that  is,  very — “ecclesiastical.  The  nation  loses  by  this  act;  for 

our  books  are  so  dear  and  ill  printed,  that  they  have  very  little  vent  among 
foreigners,  unless  now  and  then  by  truck  for  theirs,  which  yet  shows  how 
much  those  who  buy  the  books  printed  here  are  imposed  on,  since  a book 
printed  in  London  may  be  bought  cheaper  at  Amsterdam  than  in  Paul’s 
Churchyard,  notwithstanding  all  the  charge  and  hazard  of  transportation  : 
for,  their  printing  being  free  and  unrestrained,  they  sell  their  books  at  so 
much  a cheaper  rate  than  our  booksellers  do  ours,  that  in  truck,  valuing 
ours  proportionably  to  their  own,  or  their  own  equally  to  ours,  which  is  the 
same  thing,  they  can  afford  books  received  from  London  upon  such  ex- 
changes cheaper  in  Holland  than  our  stationers  sell  them  in  England.  By 
this  act  England  loses  in  general,  scholars  in  particular  are  ground,  and 
nobody  gets,  but  a lazy,  ignorant  company  of  stationers,  to  say  no  wrong 
of  them  ; but  anything  rather  than  let  mother  church  be  disturbed  in  her 
opinions  or  impositions  by  any  bold  inquirer  from  the  press.” 

Quoting  the  fifteenth  section  of  the  licensing  act,  Locke  said,  “ One  or 
more  of  the  messengers  of  his  majesty’s  chamber,  by  warrant  under  his 
majesty’s  sign-manual,  or  under  the  hand  of  one  of  his  majesty’s  principal 
secretaries  of  state,  or  the  master  and  wardens  of  the  company  of  stationers, 
taking  with  them  a constable  and  such  assistance  as  they  shall  think  needful, 
have  an  unlimited  power  to  search  all  housqs,  and  to  seize  upon  all  books 
which  they  shall  but  think  fit  to  suspect.  How  the  gentry,  much  more  how 
the  peers  of  England,  came  thus  to  prostitute  their  houses  to  the  suspicion 
of  anybody,  much  less  a messenger  upon  pretence  of  searching  for  books,  I 


AEGUMENTS  FOE  LIBEETY  OF  THE  PEESS.  315 

cannot  imagine.  Indeed,  the  houses  of  peers,  and  others  not  of  the  trades 
mentioned  in  this  act,  are  pretended  to  be  exempted  from  the  search,  -where 
it  is  provided  they  shall  not  be  searched  but  by  special  -warrant  under  the 
king’s  sign-manual,  or  under  the  hands  of  one  of  the  secretaries  of  state. 
But  this  is  but  the  shadow  of  an  exemption,  for  they  are  still  subject  to  be 
searched,  every  corner  and  coffer  in  them,  under  pretence  of  unlicensed 
books,  a mark  of  slavery  which,  I think,  their  ancestors  would  never  have 
submitted  to.  They  so  lay  their  houses,  which  are  their  castles,  open,  not 
to  the  pursuit  of  the  lawagainst  a malefactor  convicted  of  misdemeanour, 
or  accused  upon  oath,  but  to  the  suspicion  of  having  unlicensed  books, 
which  is,  whenever  it  is  thought  lit  to  search  his  house  to  see  what  is  in  it.”1 

From  those  extracts,  the  difference  between  Locke’s 
and  Milton’s  arguments  against  a censorship  of  the  press 
will  be  sufficiently  apparent.  Locke,  had  he  tried  to  do 
it,  could  not  have  written  so  eloquent  a declaration  as 
the  ‘ Areopagitica.’  But  he  did  not  at  all  try  to  emu- 
late or  imitate  Milton’s  work.  He  felt  that,  in  order 
to  overturn  the  licensing  act,  he  must  draw  up  a 
straightforward  business-like  appeal  to  the  common  sense 
of  such  men  as  formed  the  majority  in  the  house  of 
commons,  and  even  in  William  the  Third’s  cabinet.  He 
therefore  pointed  out  the  practical  inconveniences  resulting 
from  it  and  only  incidentally  made  sarcastic  reference  to  the 
very  pernicious  principle  on  which  it  was  based  and  to  its 
gross  contravention  of  political,  religious  and  social  liberty. 
And  therein  he  did  wisely.  Milton’s  advocacy  of  “ un- 
licensed printing  ” had  no  effect  upon  the  presbyterian 
rulers  of  England.  Locke’s  strictures  on  the  licensing 
act  helped  to  demolish  it. 

On  the  11th  of  February,  1694-5,  the  house  of  com- 
mons, on  the  recommendation  of  a committee  that  had 
been  appointed  to  report  upon  the  expediency  of  renewing 
temporary  statutes  about  to  expire,  was  invited  to  continue 


1 Lord  King,  pp.  202 — 208. 


316 


IN  THE  SEKVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XITI. 


the  act  entitled  “ an  act  for  preventing  abuses  in  printing 
seditious,  treasonable  and  unlicensed  pamphlets,  and  for 
regulating  of  printing  and  printing  presses.”  The  pro- 
posal was  negatived  without  a division.  The  house  of 
lords,  however,  when,  on  the  8th  of  April,  the  bill  for 
renewing  the  other  temporary  acts  was  sent  up  from  the 
commons,  returned  it  with  an  amendment,  adding  the 
licensing  act  to  the  list.  This  amendment  the  commons 
resisted  on  the  12th,  and  a conference  of  the  two  houses 
was  held  on  the  18th.  At  the  conference,  Locke’s  friend, 
Edward  Clarke,  the  member  for  Taunton,  who  had  been 
chosen  chief  of  the  committee  of  managers,  read  Locke’s 
strictures  on  the  act,  and  the  lords  at  once  gave  way.1 

As  Locke  was  at  that  time  ill  at  Oates,  it  is  not  possible 
that  he  could  have  drawn  up  his  document  especially  for 
use  on  that  decisive  day.  Clarke  must  have  had  it  in  his 
possession  before,  and  it  had  probably  been  circulated 
among  the  whig  members  in  anticipation  of  the  decision 
of  the  house  of  commons  two  months  earlier,  and  thus 
may  have  done  much  to  bring  about  that  decision.  The 
final  victory,  at  any  rate,  must  he  attributed  to  him.  To 
him,  therefore,  must  be  attributed  a large  share  in  the 
most  fruitful  of  all  the  great  benefits  that  issued  from  the 
revolution  of  1688. 

The  memorable  exploit  was  little  heeded,  and  Locke’s 
part  in  it  was  quite  ignored,  amid  the  more  startling 
incidents  of  the  time.  Queen  Mary  had  died  in  the 
previous  December,  and  in  April  the  Marquis  of  Halifax, 
a person  of  more  consequence  in  state  affairs,  had  followed 
her  to  Westminster  Abbey.  Sir  John  Trevor  had  been 
deposed  from  the  speakership  of  the  house  of  commons 

1 ‘Journal  of  the  House  of  Commons,’  11  February,  1694 — 5,  and  12  and 
17  April,  1695  ; ‘ Journal  of  the  House  of  Lords,’  8 and  18  April,  1695. 


1^03.  "I 

Mt.  62.J 


POLITICAL  CHANGES. 


317 


in  March,  and,  though  the  process  was  slower  in  the  case 
of  so  great  a man,  the  train  had  been  laid  for  the  disgrace 
of  Trevor’s  master,  Lord  Carmarthen,  now  Duke  of  Leeds. 
The  tories,  with  some  unworthy  whigs,  had  been  allowed, 
during  nearly  five  years,  to  take  the  chief  management 
of  public  affairs,  and  now  they  were  found  to  have  so  mis- 
managed everything  that  neither  king  nor  country  could 
longer  hear  with  them.  A younger  and  more  patriotic 
generation  of  whigs  had  been  slowly  working  their  way 
into  power,  and  the  time  was  now  come  for  them  to  have 
their  five  years’  lease  of  office,  and  Locke,  though  very 
unwilling  to  share  in  what  was  regarded  as  their  good 
fortune,  was  eager,  worn  out  in  body  as  he  was,  to  join 
them  in  their  good  work. 

One  notable  instance  of  his  desire  to  take  part  in  that 
work  and  of  the  spirit  that  prompted  him  can  be  given. 
It  is  not  the  less  valuable  as  an  indication  of  his  motives 
and  methods  because  we  can  only  trace  the  outcome  of 
his  own  mind,  not  its  issue  in  other  minds. 

William’s  second  parliament  was  prorogued  on  the  13th 
of  May,  1695,  and  soon  afterwards  dissolved;  and  the 
third  parliament  was  summoned  for  the  23rd  of  November. 
Soon  after  its  assembling  Locke  wrote  a short  discourse 
which  he  entitled,  ‘ Old  England’s  Legal  Constitution,’ 

and  which,  addressed  in  the  manuscript  “ To  Mr. , 

a member  of  parliament,”  was  evidently  meant  to  be 
printed  and  circulated  among  the  newly  elected  repre- 
sentatives of  the  people  in  the  house  of  commons,  though 
it  appears  never  to  have  gone  far  beyond  the  circle  of  his 
intimate  friends.1  The  letter  was  prefaced  by  an  extract 
from  Camden’s  ‘ Elizabeth,’  telling  how,  in  1601,  the 

1 As  I found  this  document  among  the  Shaftesbury  Papers  (series  viii., 
no.  6),  I infer  that  it  got  into  Lord  Ashley’s  hands  and  was  retained  by  him. 


318 


IN  THE  SEBVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[CnAr.  XIII. 


house  of  commons  complained  to  “ the  queen  of  glorious 
memory”  concerning  “ the  mischiefs  arising  to  the  sub- 
ject from  monopolies  and  private  trading  companies  of 
merchants,”  how  she  attended  to  their  complaint&,3iid 
how,  on  parliament’s  thanking  her  for  so  doing,  she  made 
answer  in  the  following  words,  which  Locke  reasonably 
applied  to  political  affairs  even  more  important  than  the 
suppression  of  unjust  trading  monopolies 

“ We  owe  unto  you  special  thanks  and  commendations  for  your  singular 
good-will  towards  us,  not  in  silent  thought  but  in  plain  declaration  expressed, 
whereby  you  have  called  us  home  from  an  error  proceeding  from  ignorance 
not  willingness.  These  things  had  undeservedly  turned  to  our  disgrace  (to 
whom  nothing  is  more  dear  than  the  safety  and  love  of  our  people)  had  not 
such  harpies  and  horseleeches  as  these  been  made  known  unto  us  by  you.  I 
had  rather  be  maimed  in  mind  or  hand  than  with  mind  or  hand  give  allowance 
of  such  privileges  of  monopolies  as  may  be  prejudicial  to  my  people.  The 
brightness  of  regal  majesty  hath  not  so  blinded  my  eyes  that  licentious 
power  should  prevail  more  with  me  than  justice.  The  glory  of  the  name  of 
a king  may  deceive  unskilful  princes,  as  gilded  pills  may  deceive  a sick 
patient ; but  I am  none  of  those  princes  : for  I know  that  the  common- 
wealth is  to  be  governed  for  the  benefit  of  those  that  are  committed,  not  of 
those  to  whom  it  is  committed,  and  that  an  account  is  one  day  to  be  given  t! 
before  another  judgment-seat.  I think  myself  most  happy  that,  by  God’s 
assistance,  I have  hitherto  so  governed  the  whole  commonwealth  and  have 
such  subjects  as  for  their  good  I would  willingly  leave  both  kingdom  and  life 
also.  I beseech  you  that  what  faults  others  have  committed  by  false  sugges- 
tions may  not  be  imputed  to  me.  Let  the  testimony  of  a clear  conscience 
be  my  absolute  excuse.  You  are  not  ignorant  that  princes’  servants  are  now 
and  then  too  attentive  to  their  own  benefit ; that  the  truth  is  often  concealed 
from  princes;  and  they  cannot  themselves  look  preciselyinto  all  things  upon 
whose  shoulders  lieth  continually  the  weight  of  the  greatest  business.” 

To  that  extract  Locke  appended  the  following  “ obser- 
vations ” : — 

“It  is  the  duty  of  a parliament  house  humbly  to  remonstrate  the  grievances 
of  the  nation  to  the  prince,  and  the  performance  of  his  duty  deserves  ‘ his 
special  thanks  and  commendations  ’ for  averting  the  ‘ disgrace’  and  reproach 
of  ill  government  from  him. 


1693.  I 

.St.  62.  J 


‘ old  England’s  legal  constitution.’ 


319 


“This  manner  of  remonstrating  is  a token  of  the  parliament’s  ‘singular 
good-will  ’ towards  the  prince,  not  of  disaffection  or  sedition. 

“ The  parliament  ought  to  deal  * plainly  ’ with  the  prince.  The  faults  of 
his  government  are  ‘ not  in  silent  thought  to  be  blamed,  but  in  plain  declara- 
tion-'expressed,’  to  the  end  this  mark  of  their  ‘singular  good-will  ’ may 
produce  suitable  effects. 

“It  is  so  far  from  being  a shame  that  ’tis  a great  glory  for  a prince  to  own 
publicly  and  reform  ‘an  error  proceeding  from  ignorance,’  since  no  English 
king  can  be  supposed  to  commit  a crime  ‘ willingly.’ 

“ Procurers  and  enjoyers  of  monopolies  are  no  better  than  ‘ harpies  and 

horseleeches,’  i.e.,  devourers  of  the  people’s  properties  andravishers  of  their 

liberties. 

* 

“ It  is  the  duty  of  a prince  to  consent  to  such  laws,  and  reform  such 
abuses,  as  are  ‘made  known  to  him  by  parliament,’  rejoice  to  be  ‘called 
home  from  an  error,’  and  demonstrate  by  his  works  and  actions  that  ‘no- 
thing is  more  dear  to  him  than  the  safety  and  love  of  his  people.’ 

“ ‘ The  brightness  of  regal  majesty  often  blinds  princes’  eyes,  so  that 
licentious  power,’  preached  up  by  flatterers  for  their  own  ends,  ‘ prevails 
more  with  them  than  justice.’ 

“ ‘ An  unskilful  prince  ’ swallows  ‘ the  gilded  pill  ’ of  arbitrary  power  under 
the  title  of  ‘ prerogative,’  and  ‘ is  deceived  ’ by  it,  since  ’tis  no  better  than 
‘ poison  to  such  a sick  patient.’  ‘ But  I am  none  of  those  princes,’  says  the 
queen,  ‘ for  I know  that  the  commonwealth  is  to  be  governed  for  the  benefit 
of  those  that  are  committed,  not  of  those  to  whom  it  is  committed.’ 

“ Heaven  as  well  as  earth  will  have  its  part  in  the  punishment  of  ill 
princes.  ‘ An  account  is  one  day  to  be  given  before  another  judgment-seat.’ 
She  was  then  ‘ a-giving  an  account  ’ before  ‘ one,’  and  both  repenting  and 
reforming. 

“ A good  government  will  make  good  subjects,  and  such  as  are  worthy  of 
the  prince’s  love,  so  far  as  that  he  ought  to  ‘ be  willing  to  leave  both  king- 
dom and  life  for  their  sakes  if  necessary.’ 

“ Whatever  ‘ faults  an  English  king  commits  ’ must  be  imputed  to  ‘his 
ministers ; ’ since  no  king  has  power  to  do  or  command  a public  wrong.  If 
he  once  acquires  that  power,  he  is  no  longer  a king. 

“ ‘ False  suggestions  ’ and  flattery  are  the  bane  of  princes. 

“ ‘ Princes’  servants  are  most  commonly  too  attentive  to  their  own  benefit,’ 
without  regard  to  their  masters’  honour  or  their  nation’s  detriment. 

“ The  concealment  of  the  truth  from  princes  is  a very  great  crime  ; and 
the  declaring  of  it  freely  is  the  special  business  of  a parliament ; which 


320 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


therefore  ought  frequently  to  be  ‘ holden,’ because  ‘ the  prince  himself  can- 
not precisely  look  into  all  things  upon  whose  shoulders  lieth  continually  the 
weight  of  the  greatest  business,’  viz.,  the  executive  part,  which  is  his  proper 
province,  and  wherein  consists  the  very  life  of  the  laws. 

“ That  prince  gives  occasion  to  be  esteemed  ‘ as  one  maimed  in  his  mind  ’ 
who  knowingly  ‘ allows  such  practices  as  may  be  prejudicial  to  his  people.’  ” 

Locke  certainly  drew  a great  deal  more  out  of  Queen 
Elizabeth’s  speech  than  she  intended  it  to  convey  ; but 
he  as  certainly  made  it  the  handle  for  some  excellent 
comments  on  the  relations  between  sovereigns  and  their 
subjects.  And  these  comments  he  continued  in  the'letter 
which  follows  : — 

“ This  wise  speech  of  a queen  whose  memory  will  always  be  precious  to 
this  nation  would  not  need  to  have  the  dust  it  has  been  so  long  covered 
with  now  shaken  off,  or  any  observations  made  upon  it,  if  a supine  negli- 
gence in  affairs  of  the  greatest  importance  did  not  overspread  the  whole  land. 
I wish  we  could  except  those  whose  particular  business  it  is  to  watch  over 
the  interests  of  the  people,  and  [who]  are  chosen  to  serve  in  parliament  for 
that  purpose. 

“ For,  although  barefaced  bribery,  corruption,  and  perjury  never  were 
so  generally  practised  among  us  as  lately,  and  this  not  in  the  subordinate 
courts,  but  the  very  fountain-heads  of  justice,  nor  in  matters  of  small  conse- 
quence, but  tending  to  the  utter  subversion  of  the  constitution,  yet  I cannot 
agree  with  several  ill-natured  persons  who  involve  the  generality  of  our 
representatives,  either  as  actors  or  abettors,  in  the  guilt  of  these  most  heinous 
crimes.  God  forbid  such  a thought  should  have  any  ground  of  truth. 
Neither  ought  it  to  be  cherished,  since  very  remarkable  steps  were  made 
towards  the  end  of  last  session  in  order  to  clear  them  from  this  uncharitable 
imputation. 

“ Many  are  of  opinion  that,  if  the  shortness  of  the  time  and  urgency  of 
affairs  would  have  permitted,  such  enormous  offences  had  not  only  been 
hunted  and  scared  a little,  as  they  were,  but  received  their  mortal  stroke. 
Others,  who  pretend  to  have  better  studied  the  temper  of  both  houses,  stick 
not  to  say  that  the  universal  reigning  carelessness  which  is  now  complained 
of  would  more  probably  have  obstructed  the  thorough  performance  of  so 
good  a work  as  soon  as  the  first  fire  had  been  spent  and  some  particular 
turns  been  served. 


1695.  "I 
Jit.  63.  J 


HOW  TO  SAVE  THE  COMMONWEALTH. 


321 


“ ’Tis  owned  that  partiality  and  sinister  ends  may  indeed  influence  too 
many,  and  hinder  in  a great  measure  the  prosecution  of  criminals  ; but  ’tis 
rather  to  be  imputed  to  this  general  inactivity  that  knavery  gets  so  much 
and  so  often  the  better  of  justice  and  honesty. 

“Did  every  uncorrupt  member  of  parliament  seriously  consider  that  the 
work  of  the  whole  house  is  the  work  of  each  particular  in  it,  and  not  fling 
his  share  of  the  public  burden  off  from  bis  shoulders  in  expectation  that 
another  will  take  it  up,  we  should  soon  see  such  an  honest  majority  that  no 
set  of  knaves,  though  of  the  first  magnitude,  could  hope  for  impunity,  much 
less  for  honours  and  riches. 

“ Certainly,  as  long  as  more  pains  are  taken,  and  more  hearty  united  en- 
deavours are  used,  to  protect  notorious  delinquents  against  the  public  than 
there  are  to  discover  and  bring  them  to  punishment,  the  effect  will  answer 
the  degree  of  diligence  and  the  nation  will  go  on  to  be  abused.  The  children 
of  darkness  are  in  their  generation  so  much  wiser  than  the  children  of  light 
that  they  seldom  fail  of  being  more  successful  too  in  their  designs. 

“ This  has  been  the  principal  root  of  all  our  past  calamities,  and  will  be 
of  our  future  till  every  good  man  shakes  off  idleness,  considers  himself  as 
a piece  of  the  public,  and  quits  those  vain  selfish  imaginations  that  he  may 
chance  to  thrive  or  ’scape,  let  what  will  become  of  the  commonwealth,  and 
that  the  public  will  take  care  of  itself.  For  the  false  axiom  ‘ Res  nolunt 
male  administrari  ’ has  deceived  many  a well-meaning  pretender  to  politics. 
Whoever  considers  how  few  were  the  men  of  parts  and  industry  that  in  all 
times  have  stood  at  the  helm  of  affairs,  steering  them  as  they  pleased  and 
making  the  subordinate  multitude  ignorantly  contributors  to  their  designs, 
will  soon  be  convinced  that  the  hearty  endeavours  of  a few  good  men,  guided 
by  prudence,  may  as  well  do  wonders  towards  the  saving  a nation  as  those 
of  bad  men  to  the  ruin  of  it. 

“ History  will  inform  us  that,  in  most  of  the  surprising  revolutions  which 
have  happened  in  the  world,  a very  few  great  men,  according  as  they  were 
ii dined,  have  occasioned  the  good  or  ill  fortune  of  their  countries.  Believe 
it,  the  labours  of  not  many  persons  of  understanding,  diligence,  and  disin- 
terestedness, backed  by  the  laws,  may  stem  the  current  of  the  most  potent 
wickedness. 

“ The  people’s  liberties  are  seldom  lost  but  through  negligence  and  the 
want  of  being  taken  due  care  of  in  time,  when  a small  matter  will  do  it. 
How  much  easier,  greater  and  more  sudden,  then,  would  the  effect  be,  did 
all  such  as  have  yet  pure  hearts  and  clean  hands  among  us  set  them 
seriously  to  understand  and  cultivate  the  public  interest  1 

Vol.  II.— 21 


322 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


“ Such  an  unanimity  would  in  a short  time  quite  overthrow  country- 
selling knavery.  Were  principal  ministers  and  their  inferior  agents  once 
thoroughly  persuaded  that  not  titles  of  honour,  blue  garters,  boons,  pensions, 
sums  of  money,  places,  confiscate  estates,  etc.,  but  impeachments,  fines, 
imprisonments,  ropes  and  axes  were  the  undoubted  attendants  upon  ill 
practices,  we  should  soon  see  another  manner  of  world. 

“ Fear  of  punishment  often  does  what  virtue  should  do.  If  this  last  be 
not  strong  enough,  or  have  but  few  rewards  to  recommend  it,  then  it  belongs 
to  the  two  houses  of  parliament  to  make  the  former  so,  since  the  recom- 
penses of  virtue  are  no  longer  lodged  in  their  hands  for  disposal.  For  ’tis 
the  greatest  absurdity  imaginable  to  say  that  an  English  king,  without  the 
consent  of  parliament,  will  or  can  pardon  a crime  committed  against  the 
whole  nation,  who  cannot  by  our  laws  pardon  one  against  a private  person ; 
neither  did  any  king  yet  attempt  to  do  so  who  was  not  himself  deeply 
concerned  in  the  guilt. 

“The  wrong  understanding  of  the  word  ‘prerogative’  has  been  the 
undoing  of  many  kings  and  subjects.  Flatterers  and  interested  ministers 
seldom  fail  of  screwing  up  this  string  till  it  cracks  of  itself ; and  ’tis  happy 
for  us  it  does  so,  notwithstanding  the  inconveniences  which  constantly  attend 
such  a rupture  ; for,  whenever  it  holds,  adieu  to  the  liberties  of  old  England 
for  ever. 

“ This  most  extraordinary  woman,  Queen  Elizabeth  (who  may  be  called 
the  last  of  English  princes  as  to  birth  and  extraction,  and  till  within  these 
seven  years  might  also  in  the  same  sense  that  Brutus  called  Cassius  the  last 
of  the  Romans  x),  was  so  wise  as  thoroughly  to  understand  this  truth,  and 
to  determine  the  point  after  forty-two  years’  experience,  during  which  she 
happily  governed  this  realm  in  most  difficult  times. 

“ Neither  was  she  satisfied  in  her  own  private  judgment  only,  hut  made 
it  part  of  her  glory  to  acknowledge  this  openly  to  her  house  of  commons, 
in  the  foregoing  speech,  which  we  may  see  proceeded  from  her  heart,  and 
could  not  be  prepared  for  her  in  any  cabal  of  her  ministers. 

“What  Englishman  would  not  be  prodigal  of  life  and  estate  for  such  a 
prince  ? This  made  her  own  subjects  so  fond  of  her,  and  continues  her  memory 
so  sweet  to  this  day.  I believe  if  a speech  of  this  kind  should  be  heard  now 
(and  we  are  not  without  hopes  of  doing  so  as  soon  as  the  English  genius  is 
thoroughly  understood),  it  would  force  tears  of  joy  from  the  whole  house, 

1 This  allusion  to  William  the  Third,  who  had  become  king  seven  years 
before  the  spring  of  1695-6,  fixes  pretty  accurately  the  date  of  this  letter, 
which  is  undated  in  the  manuscript. 


1005.  "I 
Mt.  63.  J 


HOW  TO  SAVE  THE  COMMONWEALTH. 


323 


and  open  the  purse  of  the  most  narrow-hearted  miser.  For  we  have  already 
convincing  instances  how  much  more  prevalent  towards  the  procuring  of 
vast  sums  to  answer  the  public  occasions  liberty  and  security  is  than 
arbitrary  power  which  can  only  create  fear,  hatred  and  distrust. 

“ She  often  during  her  reign  did  things  which  at  first  glance  seemed 
arbitrary,  and  I have  heard  this  objected  to  her  by  some  who  thought  to 
excuse  their  own  practices  by  accusing  hers.  ’Tis  most  certain  our  late 
kings  could  not  bear,  with  any  patience,  the  respect  which  the  people  paid 
her  memory,  because  their  contrary  maxims  made  them  look  upon  the 
anniversary  of  her  birth  as  the  anniversary  of  their  own  disgrace ; and  in 
effect  it  was  so. 

“ I say  she  often  did  things  which  looked  irregular,  but,  when  those  things 
were  well  considered,  they  had  either  a popular  root  and  bottom,  or  at 
least  no  tyrannical  one.  Whereas  we  have  known  things  done  in  the  late 
reigns  which  had  a face  of  popularity,  but,  when  narrowly  inspected,  were 
found  to  have  had  either  an  arbitrary  root  or  none  at  all ; and  heaven  knows 
what  fruits  they  produced. 

“Her  interest  and  that  of  her  subjects  was  so  much  one  and  the  same 
that  they  could  scarce  in  any  instance  be  separated,  which  to  our  great 
comfort  is  the  case  of  his  present  majesty  and  these  kingdoms  at  present. 
The  people  of  England  had  in  her  time  but  one  work  upon  their  hands,  and 
that  was  to  be  upon  their  guard  against  their  common  enemies,  not  against 
their  own  prince’s  encroachments  ; and  how  easily  did  this  nation  overcome 
that  single  difficulty,  though,  among  many  other  aggressors,  it  had  to  deal 
with  Philip  the  Second  of  Spain,  one  of  the  most  potent  and  wisest  monarchs 
that  ever  ruled  in  Europe  ! 

“ She  was  a true  mother  of  her  people,  not  a step-mother,  and  we  know 
by  experience  that  the  hatred  of  the  last,  though  it  may  be  more  covered, 
is  as  intense  as  the  love  of  the  first,  and  much  more  designing.  The  one 
may  often  correct  her  children,  and  sometimes  in  a passion  unjustly  ; but  a 
deep  repentance,  and  hearty  endeavour  to  make  a large  amends  in  kindness, 
seldom  fails  of  succeeding  such  a correction.  The  other  does  acts  of 
civility  and  favour  with  an  intention  to  lead  them  into  inconveniences — like 
the  liberty  of  conscience  granted  in  the  late  reigns — and  would  be  well 
pleased  to  see  them  take  wrong  courses,  that  she  may  seem  to  have  just 
occasion  for  using  them  ill. 

“ We  need  not  pursue  the  parallel  any  farther.  Whoever  reads  this 
speech,  w’herein  there  is  not  a line,  nay,  scarce  a word,  that  is  not  full  of 
worth  and  deserves  not  to  be  engraven  on  pillars  of  marble,  will  find  the 
mother  as  well  as  the  queen  shine  through  all  parts  of  it. 


321 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


Chap.  XHI. 


“ Were  all  princes’  words  and  actions  conformable  to  this  model,  there 
would  never  be  a commonweath’s  man  in  England,  and  I am  persuaded 
there  are  few  at  this  time,  notwithstanding  the  outcry  that  is  made,  and  the 
dust  that  is  raised,  to  blind  the  people’s  eyes  and  create  the  prince’s  distrust, 
I mean  in  that  hated  sense  wherein  ’tis  usually  taken  as  exclusive  of  king- 
ship  ; for,  as  to  the  other  sense  wherein  ’twas  anciently  used,  the  good 
queen  has  twice  sanctified  it  in  this  very  speech,  how  frightful  soever  the 
very  sound  of  it  be  to  some  persons. 

“ My  pains  has  been  no  more  than  only  to  transcribe  this  speech  out  of  the 
learned  Camden’s  ‘History  of  Queen  Elizabeth,’ where  it  was  lain  as  it 
were  under  rubbish,  and  was  as  little  thought  of  as  if  it  had  been  spoken 
above  two  thousand  years  ago,  not  in  this  very  same  age.  Pray  read  it 
often  ; consider  it  well,  recommend  it  to  your  friends,  and  let  them  with  you 
judge  whether  such  a constitution  as  ours  is  owned  and  declared  to  be 
in  this  speech  be  not  worth  every  Englishman’s  care  and  diligence,  the 
prince’s  as  well  as  the  people’s,  to  preserve  upon  its  true  bottom.” 

Before  writing  that  letter  Locke  had  done  much  to- 
wards the  second  of  the  two  great  reforms  of  which  at 
this  time  he  was  a chief  promoter. 

We  have  seen  how,  five  years  or  more  previously,  he 
had  begun  to  warn  his  friends  as  to  the  deplorable  conse- 
quences of  the  prevalence  and  steady  increase  of  money- 
clipping and,  in  a long  chapter  added  to  his  anonymous  tract 
on  ‘ The  Lowering  of  Interest,’  had  seriously  protested 
against  the  specious  arguments  of  those  who  thought  that 
the  only  way  to  prevent  the  illegal  depreciation  of  the 
currency  effected  by  the  clippers  was  for  the  government 
itself  to  issue  a depreciated  currency.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  all  through  the  interval  he  had  continued  often 
to  think  and  talk  on  the  subject,  and  he  had  good  reason 
to  do  this  on  private  as  well  as  on  public  grounds.  “ I 
shall,  I think,  in  the  beginning  of  July  have  some  money 
paid  me  in,  and  perhaps  some  sooner,”  he  wrote  to  Clarke 
at  the  end  of  May,  1695.  “ Pray  tell  me  whether  I cannot 
refuse  clipped  money ; for  I take  it  not  to  be  the  lawful 


1695.  "1 
63.  J 


THE  DEPRECIATED  CURRENCY. 


325 


coin  of  England,  and  I know  not  why  I should  receive 
half  the  value  I lent,  instead  of  the  whole.”1 

It  would  seem  that  Locke  now  circulated  among  his 
friends  copies  of  the  tract  that  had  been  published  in 
1692,  with  the  avowed  object  both  of  stirring  up  interest 
in  the  subject',  and  of  obtaining  criticisms  that  might 
help  him  in  writing  more  upon  it.  “ With  my  treatise  of 
Education,”  he  said  in  a letter  to  Molyneux,  “ you  will 
receive  another  little  one  concerning  Interest  and  Coinage. 
It  is  one  of  the  fatherless  children  which  the  world  lays  at 
my  door;  hut,  whoever  he  the  author,  I shall  be  glad  to 
know  your  opinion  of  it.”  2 The  letter  containing  Moly- 
neux’s  opinion  is  missing  ; but  we  have  Locke’s  reply, 
showing  that  Molyneux  praised  it  greatly,  and  asked  for 
another  copy,  as  he  had  given  away  the  one  already 
received  by  him.  Locke  complied  with  this  request. 
“But  ’tis  to  you  I send  it,”  he  said,  “ and  not  to  any- 
body else.  You  may  give  it  to  whom  you  please,  for  ’tis 
yours  as  soon  as  you  receive  it ; but  pray  do  not  give  it  to 
anybody  in  my  name,  or  as  a present  horn  me  ; and  how- 
ever you  are  pleased  to  make  me  a compliment  in  making 
me  the  author  of  a book  you  think  well  of,  yet  you  may 
be  sure  I do  not  own  it  to  be  mine.  You,  I see,  are 
troubled  there  ” — in  Ireland — “ about  your  money  as 
well  as  we  are  here,  though  I hope  you  are  not  so  deep 
in  that  disease  as  we  are.”  3 “ The  affair  of  our  money, 

which  is  in  a lamentable  state,”  he  had  said  in  an  earlier 
letter,  “is  now  under  debate  here.  What  the  issue  will 
be  I know  not  : I pray  for  a good  one.  I find  everybody 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  25  May,  1695. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  118 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  2 July, 
1695. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  127  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  20  Nov.,  1695. 


326 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


Cimp.  XXII. 


almost  looks  on  it  as  a mystery.  To  me  there  appears  to 
he  none  at  all  in  it.  ’Tis  but  stripping  it  of  the  cant 
which  all  men  that  talk  of  it  involve  it  in,  and  there  is 
nothing  easier.  Lay  by  the  arbitrary  names  of  pence  and 
shillings,  and  consider  and  speak  of  it  as  grains  and  ounces 
of  silver,  and  ’tis  as  easy  as  telling  of  twenty.”1 

The  question  was  easy  enough  to  understand  and  ex- 
plain, but  not  so  easy  to  bring  to  a practical  solution. 
The  cant  in  which  it  was  involved,  as  Locke  said,  though 
honestly  adopted  by  many,  was  prompted  by  shrewd  men 
who,  either  for  their  own  profit,  or  under  a false  concep- 
tion of  the  interests  of  the  nation,  industriously  propounded 
opinions  that  Locke  found  it  hard  work,  not  to  controvert, 
but  to  discredit.  Fortunately  he  had  friends  in  the 
government  who  shared  his  views,  and  not  only  eagerly 
sought  his  advice,  hut  were  really  anxious  to  follow  it. 
Charles  Montagu,  who  had  been  made  chancellor  of  the 
exchequer  in  April,  1694,  the  greatest  financier  who  had 
ever  occupied  the  post,  and  who  had  won  it  by  his  suc- 
cessful insistance  on  Paterson’s  project  of  the  Bank  of 
England,  had  an  able  coadjutor,  if  not  leader,  in  Lord 
Keeper  Somers  ; and  both  of  them  knew  the  value  of 
Locke’s  counsel.  Being  the  most  influential  of  the  lords 
justices — the  body  of  seven  to  whom,  after  Queen  Mary’s 
death,  the  administration  of  affairs  was  entrusted  during 
the  king’s  absence  on  the  continent,  and  who,  after  his 
return,  continued  in  an  irregular  way  to  perform  some  of 
the  functions  of  a cabinet — Somers  induced  his  colleagues 
in  October,  not  apparently  for  the  first  time  during  this 
year,  to  invite  Locke  to  come  up  from  Oates  to  confer 
with  them.  King  William  was  now  on  his  way  from  a 
successful  camjiaign  in  the  Netherlands,  and  use  was  to 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  126  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  16  Nov.,  1695. 


^t6963.]  PROPOSED  REFORM  OF  THE  COINAGE.  327 

be  made  of  liis  good  fortune  in  dissolving  tire  old  parlia- 
ment-— a step  rendered  necessary,  it  is  true,  by  the  re- 
cently passed  triennial  act — and  electing  a new  one,  as 
patriotic  as  it  could  be,  in  wbicb  currency  reform  was 
to  be  the  first  business  discussed.  “A  little  before  bis 
majesty’s  return,”  Locke  wrote  to  Molyneux,  “ tbe  lords 
justices  bad  this  matter  under  tbeir  consideration,  and, 
amongst  others,  were  pleased  to  send  to  me  for  my 
thoughts  about  it.  This  is  too  publicly  known  here  to 
make  tbe  mentioning  of  it  to  you  appear  vanity  in  me.”  1 
Then’  lordships  appear  to  have  been  just  now  especially 
troubled  by  a pamphlet  “ for  encouraging  the  coining 
silver  money  in  England,  and  after  for  keeping  it  here,” 
which  we  only  know  through  Locke’s  reply  to  it,  but 
which  seems  to  have  been  considered  more  important 
than  any  of  the  others  that  were  plentiful  at  the  time. 
The  pamphlet  was  an  answer  to  Locke’s  chapter  on 
“ raising  the  value  of  money  ” in  the  treatise  that  he 
had  published  three  years  before.  Locke  criticised  it 
paragraph  by  paragraph  in  a paper  which  he  drew  up 
for  the  lords  justices,  and  which,  as  it  convinced  them 
that  no  sort  of  justification  could  be  found  for  coining 
money  with  a denomination  in  excess  of  its  actual  value, 
was  at  once  printed  and  widely  circulated  throughout  the 
country.2 

Before  long  a more  formidable  adversary  had  to  be 
defeated.  William  Lowndes,  an  indefatigable  public  ser- 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  128  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  20  Nov., 
1695. 

2 ‘ Short  Observations  on  a Printed  Paper,  entitled,  For  Encouraging  the 
Coining  Silver  Money  in  England,  and  after  for  keeping  it  here  ’ (1695), 
24  pp.  This  tract  need  not  be  described,  as  its  arguments  were  repeated 
more  fully  and  effectively  in  Locke’s  next  publication  on  the  subject. 


328 


IN  THE  SEEYICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  Xlll. 


vant,  who,  after  some  sixteen  years  of  subordinate  employ- 
ment, was  made  secretary  to  the  treasury  by  Montagu 
in  April,  1695,  and  who  held  that  post  with  great  credit 
to  himself,  and  great  advantage  to  the  country,  during 
nearly  eight-and-twenty  years,  rendering  unobtrusive  but 
extremely  valuable  service  by  his  reformation  and  honest 
and  energetic  oversight  of  the  national  account-keeping, 
had  been  directed,  early  in  the  year,  to  collect  statistics 
“ of  divers  matters  which  concern  the  gold  and  silver 
moneys,  and  of  the  most  practicable  methods  for  new 
coining  the  latter,  and  supplying,  in  the  meantime,  suffi- 
cient coins  to  pay  the  king’s  taxes  and  revenues,  and  to 
carry  on  the  public  commerce.”  1 

Such  statistics  were  absolutely  needed  as  preliminary 
to  a reform  of  the  currency ; and  that  Lowndes  executed 
the  task  assigned  to  him  very  well  indeed  is  attested  by 
the  report,  which  he  dated  the  12tli  of  September,  though 
it  does  not  appear  to  have  been  seen  by  the  government 
till  two  months  later.  He  learnedly  summed  up  the 
history  of  the  coinage  from  ancient  times,  explained  the 
successive  variations  in  sterling  and  changes  in  the 
method  of  coining,  and  described  with  painful  exactness 
the  deplorable  state  to  which  the  use  of  clipped  money 
had  brought  the  country.  Of  the  silver  coins  brought  into 
the  exchequer  within  three  months,  in  1695,  amounting 
in  nominal  value  to  57,200/.,  and  which  ought  to  have 
weighed  221,418  ounces,  he  reported  that  the  actual 
weight  was  only  113,771  ounces,  showing  that  the  real 
was  hardly  more  than  half  the  nominal  value,  and 
arguing  from  that  average  that  the  silver  coin  then  in 

1 Lowndes  ; ‘ A Report  containing  an  Essay  for  the  Amendment  of  the 
Silver  Coins  ’ (1695),  p.  3. 


iEt.^03.]  THE  FINANCIAL  EMBARRASSMENTS  OF  ENGLAND.  329 

the  country,  reckoned  to  te  worth  about  4, 000,000k,  was 
actually  worth  but  little  over  2, 000,000k  All  the  new 
milled  money  that  issued  from  the  mint,  he  alleged, 
was  hoarded  up  or  melted  down  for  exportation ; 
clipped  silver  coins  alone  were  in  circulation,  and  the 
best  of  these  were  being  constantly  bought  up  at  the 
rate  of  as  many  as  thirty  shillings  to  the  golden  guinea, 
so  that  the  remaining  coins  were  becoming  worse  and 
worse,  and,  besides  all  the  immense  damage  done  to 
foreign  trade,  local  trade  was  growing  every  day  more 
and  more  difficult.  “ In  consequence  of  the  vitiating, 
diminishing  and  counterfeiting  of  the  current  moneys, 
it  is  come  to  pass  that  great  contentions  do  daily  arise 
amongst  the  king’s  subjects  in  fairs,  markets,  shops  and 
other  places  throughout  the  kingdom,  about  the  passing 
and  refusing  of  the  same,  to  the  great  disturbance  of  the 
public  peace.  Many  bargains,  doings  and  dealings  are 
totally  prevented  and  laid  aside,  which  lessens  trade 
in  general.  Persons,  before  they  conclude  in  any  bargains, 
are  necessitated  first  to  settle  the  price  or  value  of  the 
very  money  they  are  to  receive  for  their  goods,  and,  if  it 
be  in  guineas  at  a high  rate,  or  in  clipped  or  bad  moneys, 
they  set  the  price  of  their  goods  accordingly,  which 
I think  has  been  one  great  cause  of  raising  the  price  not 
only  of  merchandises,  but  even  of  edibles  and  other 
necessaries  for  the  sustenance  of  the  common  people,  to 
their  great  grievance.  The  receipt  and  collection  of  the 
public  taxes,  revenues,  and  debts,  as  well  as  of  private 
men’s  incomes,  are  extremely  retarded,  so  that  there  rvere 
never  so  many  bonds  given  and  lying  unsatisfied  at  the 
custom  houses,  or  so  vast  an  arrear  of  excises.  And 
as  for  the  land-tax,  your  lordships  know  how  far  ’tis 
affected  with  the  bad  moneys  by  the  many  complaints 


330 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE 


[Chap.  XIII. 


transmitted  daily  from  tlie  commissioners,  receivers  and 
collectors  thereof.”1 

Lowndes,  however,  was  not  satisfied  with  merely 
reporting  upon  the  state  of  the  currency.  He  entitled 
his  document  £ An  Essay  for  the  Amendment  of  the 
Silver  Coins ; ’ imported  into  it  all  the  arguments  he 
could  bring  together  in  favour  of  such  an  adulteration 
of  the  coinage  as  would  put  into  a crown-piece  only 
four  shillings’  worth  of  silver,  and,  a few  days  before 
the  meeting  of  the  new  parliament,  issued  this  more 
monstrous  proposal  than  any  that  Locke  had  hitherto  had 
to  condemn  in  the  form  of  a state  paper ; apparently 
printing  and  publishing  it  before  presenting  it  to  the 
lords  justices,  and,  in  a note  on  the  last  page,  suggesting 
that  “ any  persons  who  have  considered  an  affair  of 
this  nature”  should  “communicate  their  thoughts  for 
rendering  the  design  here  aimed  at  more  perfect  or  agree- 
able to  the  public  service.”2 

During  the  first  fortnight  or  so  of  November  Locke  was 
in  constant  communication  with  Montagu  and  Somers, 
and  perhaps  with  some  other  members  of  the  govern- 
ment, discussing  the  terms  of  the  proposal  to  he  submitted 
to  parliament.  They  were  all  agreed  as  to  the  madness 
of  any  attempt  to  adulterate  the  coinage  : of  the  folly 
and  dishonesty  of  such  a proceeding,  Locke  had  quite 
convinced  his  associates.  They  were  also  agreed  as  to 
the  necessity  of  calling  in  the  clipped  money,  and  render- 
ing its  use,  after  a short  time,  illegal,  as  otherwise  the  new 
money  would  certainly  be  at  once,  as  heretofore,  either 
hoarded  up  or  melted  down  or  exported.  But  who  was  to 

J Lowndes  ; ‘ A Report  containing  an  Essay  for  the  Amendment  of  the 
Silver  Coins’  (1695),  pp.  106 — 116. 

2 Thid.  p.  160. 


it963.]  CONFERENCES  WITH  THE  GOVERNMENT.  331 

bear  the  loss  consequent  on  the  change,  which  Lowndes 
estimated  at  2,000,000/.,  and  Locke  at  the  more  moderate 
sum  of  1,200,000/.  ? If  it  fell  upon  the  individuals  who 
held  the  bad  money,  there  would  be  universal  discontent, 
and  the  government  would  come  into  utter  disfavour, 
which  the  king  would  largely  share.  If  it  fell  on  the 
exchequer,  there  would  be  serious  difficulty  in  obtaining 
the  money,  the  resources  of  the  crown  having  as  yet  by 
no  means  recovered  from  the  bankruptcy  inherited  from 
the  later  Stuarts.  How  and  when,  moreover,  should  the 
new  money  be  substituted  for  the  old  ? The  mint  could 
not  be  put  to  work  without  the  sanction  of  an  act  of 
parliament,  and  when  that  was  obtained,  with  its  limited 
resources,  it  would  necessarily  require  a considerable 
time  for  completion  of  the  work.  If  an  early  day  were 
fixed  for  suppression  of  the  old  money,  the  new  money 
would  not  be  ready  to  replace  it.  If  a distant  day  were 
fixed,  the  clippers  wTould  make  a rich  harvest  in  the 
interval.  Every  hour  would  add  to  the  public  loss,  and 
the  whole  trade  of  the  country  would  be  hopelessly 
deranged. 

Those  were  some  of  the  difficulties  through  which  Locke 
was  helping  to  guide  his  friends  when  Lowndes’s  essay 
was  published.  Lowndes  had  shown  him  this  essay  in 
manuscript.  “Before  it  was  laid  before  those  great  per- 
sons to  whom  it  was  afterwards  submitted,”  Locke  wrote, 
“he  did  me  the  favour  to  showT  it  to  me,  and  made  me 
the  compliment  to  ask  me  my  opinion  of  it.  Though  we 
had  some  short  discourse  on  the  subject,  yet  the  multi- 
plicity of  his  business  whilst  I staid  in  town,  and  my 
health,  which  soon  after  forced  me  out  of  it,  allowed  us 
not  an  occasion  to  debate  any  one  point  thoroughly  and 
bring  it  to  an  issue.  Before  I returned  to  town,  his  book 


332 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


was  in  tlie  press,  and  finished  before  I had  an  opportunity 
to  see  Mr.  Lowndes  again.  And  here  he  laid  a new  ob- 
ligation on  me,  not  only  in  giving  me  one  of  them,  hut 
telling  me,  when  I received  it  from  his  hands,  that  it 
was  the  first  he  had  parted  with  to  anybody.”1  Locke 
told  his  friends  the  nature  of  the  essay ; but,  for  all  that, 
when  it  was  published,  it  would  seem  that  they  were 
amazed  by  its  audacity.  “ You  will  easily  see,”  Somers 
wrote  in  haste  to  Locke,  “by  the  book  which  was  put  in 
my  hand  last  night,  and  by  the  title  of  a report  which  it 
bears,  as  well  as  by  the  advertisement  at  the  end  of  it, 
that  you  were  in  the  right  when  you  said  that  the  altera- 
tion of  the  standard  was  the  thing  aimed  at.  The  challenge 
at  the  end,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say  so,  is  in  some  sort 
directed  to  you.  The  proposition  which  you  and  I dis- 
coursed upon  yesterday  is  endeavoured  to  be  represented 
impracticable.  The  passing  of  money  by  weight  is  said 
to  be  ridiculous,  at  least  in  little  payments.  There  is  no 
encouragement  proposed  to  invite  people  to  bring  the 
clipped  money  into  the  mint,  so  that  it  will  be  melted 
down  to  be  transported  ; and  whilst  this  is  doing,  nothing 
will  be  left  to  carry  on  commerce,  for  no  one  will  bring 
out  his  guineas  to  part  with  them  for  twenty  shillings, 
when  he  paid  thirty  shillings  for  them  so  lately.  These  ” 
- — and  some  others — “ as  I remember,  are  the  objections 
made  use  of ; and  I doubt  not  but  you  will,  without 
great  difficulty,  help  us  with  some  expedients  for  them. 
I believe  it  an  easier  task  than  to  remove  what  I see  is  so 
fixed,  the  project  of  alteration  of  the  standard.”2 

Locke  readily  took  up  the  challenge  thrown  to  him, 

1 ‘ Further  Considerations  concerning  Kaising  the  Value  of  Money’  (1695), 
Preface. 

2 Lord  King,  p.  241 ; Somers  to  Locke,  Nov.,  1695. 


Jfe]  “ RAISING  THE  VALUE  OE  MONEY.”  333 

not  only  by  Lowndes,  but  also  by  Somers,  who  probably 
spoke  for  Montagu  as  well  as  for  himself.  He  concerned 
himself,  however,  not  so  much  with  the  details  of  the 
reform  wdiich,  difficult  as  they  were,  Somers  thought 
comparatively  easy,  as  with  the  “ fixed  project  of  altera- 
tion of  the  standard,”  that  is,  of  the  mischievous 
depreciation  of  the  currency,  which  Lowndes,  as  repre- 
sentative of  a number  of  crafty  schemers  and  ignorant 
theorists,  himself  belonging  only  to  the  latter  class,  had 
now  set  before  the  country  with  far  more  authority  and 
vigour  of  argument  than  any  of  the  other  score  of  pamph- 
leteers, writing  to  the  same  effect,  could  pretend  to. 

He  did  not  do  this  later  work  in  London.  On  the 
16th  of  November,  a few  days  after  the  appearance  of 
Lowndes’s  essay,  he  hurried  down  to  Oates  on  hearing  of 
Mrs.  Cudworth’s  sudden  death,  and  his  own  ill-health 
detained  him  there.  He  had  only  time  to  promise  that 
he  would  write  an  answer  to  the  essay,  and  this  he  did 
with  such  rapidity  as  should  have  spared  him  the 
“repeated  intimations  and  instances,  not  without  some 
reproaches  for  his  backwardness,”  which,  as  he  said,  came 
to  him  from  London.1  His  own  essay,  filling  more  than 
a hundred  pages,  was  written,  submitted  to  the  lords 
justices,  and  printed  and  published  at  their  request,2  before 
the  end  of  December,  that  is,  in  barely  more  than  a month 
from  the  time  when  it  was  begun.  It  was  not  circulated 
among  members  of  parliament  soon  enough  to  prepare 
them  for  Montagu’s  re-coinage  bill ; but  it  was  able  to 
help  that  bill,  in  a modified  form,  to  become  law. 

Locke  began  his  essay  with  a very  complete  and  lucid  exposition  of  the 


1 ‘ Further  Considerations,’  etc.,  Preface. 

2 Ibid.,  dedication  to  Sir  John  Somers. 


334 


IN  THE  SEEYICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XHT. 


purposes  and  advantages  of  using  silver  as  a standard  of  value,  to  which  he 
added  some  other  “considerations”  preliminary  to  his  discussion  of  Lowndes’s 
proposals.  The  substance  of  these  may  be  given  in  his  own  concise  epitome. 
“ Silver,”  he  said,  “ is  that  which  mankind  have  agreed  on  to  take  and  give 
in  exchange  for  all  other  commodities,  as  an  equivalent.  It  is  by  the  quantity 
of  silver  they  give,  or  take,  or  contract  for,  that  they  estimate  the  value  of 
other  things,  and  satisfy  for  them  ; and  thus,  by  its  quantity,  silver  becomes 
the  measure  of  commerce.  Hence  it  necessarily  follows  that  a greater 
quantity  of  silver  has  a greater  value  ; a less  quantity  of  silver  has  a less 
value  ; and  an  equal  quantity  an  equal  value.  Money  differs  from  uncoined 
silver  only  in  this,  that  the  quantity  of  silver  in  each  piece  of  money  is  ascer- 
tained by  the  stamp  it  bears ; which  is  set  there  to  be  a public  voucher  of 
its  weight  and  fineness.  Gold  is  treasure,  as  well  as  silver,  because  it  decays 
not  in  keeping,  and  never  sinks  much  in  its  value.  Gold  is  fit  to  be  coined, 
as  well  as  silver,  to  ascertain  its  quantity  to  those  who  have  a mind  to  traffic 
in  it,  but  not  fit  to  be  joined  with  silver  as  a measure  of  commerce.  Jewels 
too  are  treasure,  because  they  keep  without  decay,  and  have  constantly  a 
great  value  in  proportion  to  their  bulk,  hut  cannot  be  used  for  money, 
because  their  value  is  not  measured  by  their  quantity,  nor  can  they,  as  gold 
and  silver,  be  divided  and  keep  their  value.  The  other  metals  are  not 
treasure,  because  they  decay  in  keeping,  and  because  of  their  plenty,  which 
makes  their  value  little  in  a great  bulk,  and  so  unfit  for  money,  commerce 
and  carriage.  The  only  way  to  bring  treasure  into  England  is  the  well- 
ordering of  trade.  The  only  way  to  bring  silver  and  gold  to  the  mint,  for 
the  increase  of  our  stock  of  money  and  treasure  which  shall  stay  here,  is  an 
overbalance  of  our  whole  trade.  All  other  ways  to  increase  our  money  and 
riches  are  but  projects  that  will  fail  us.”  1 

Thereupon  Locke  proceeded  to  show  that  Lowndes’s  project  of  increasing 
the  national  wealth,  or,  which  was  the  same  thing,  of  lessening  the  national 
loss  from  so  many  generations  of  clipping,  was  an  altogether  fallacious  one. 
Lowndes  proposed  that,  in  order  to  restoi’e  the  clipped  money  to  something 
like  its  nominal  value,  an  ounce  of  silver,  worth  five  shillings  in  the  market, 
should  be  coined  iuto  a crownpiece  and  given  out  as  worth  six  shillings  and 
threepence ; and  that  in  the  same  proportion  the  whole  currency  should  be 
depreciated  to  the  extent  of  one  fifth.  His  plea  for  this  was  that  an  ounce 
of  standard  silver  was  worth  six  and  fivepence  in  the  market.  He  failed  to 
see  that  the  clipped  money  to  which  the  denomination  of  six  and  fivepence 


1 ‘Further  Considerations,’  etc.,  pp.  22,  23. 


335 


63.]  FALLACIES  ABOUT  THE  VALUE  OF  MONEY. 

was  given  was  really  worth  no  more  than  five  shillings,  or  a good  deal  less 
than  that,  and  that  this  shallow  fallacy  and  all  others  like  it  that  were  current 
had  no  other  basis  than  the  misleading  phrase  of  commerce,  that  “ bullion 
is  risen.”  “ I desire  those  who  say  bullion  is  risen,”  Locke  wrote,  “ would 
tell  me  what  they  mean  by  ‘risen.’  Any  commodity,  I think,  is  properly 
said  to  be  risen  when  the  same  quantity  will  exchange  for  a greater  quantity 
of  another  thing  : but  more  particularly  of  that  thiug  which  is  the  measure 
of  commerce  in  the  country.  And  thus  corn  is  said  to  be  risen  among  the 
English  in  Virginia  when  a bushel  of  it  will  sell  or  exchange  for  more 
pounds  of  tobacco  ; amongst  the  Indians,  when  it  will  sell  for  more  yards  of 
wampompeak,  which  is  their  money  ; and  amongst  the  English  here,  when 
it  will  exchange  for  a greater  quantity  of  silver  than  it  would  before.  Rising 
and  falling  of  commodities  is  always  between  several  commodities  of  distinct 
worths.  But  nobody  can  say  that  tobacco  of  the  same  goodness  is  risen 
in  respect  of  itself.  One  pound  of  the  same  goodness  will  never  exchange 
for  a pound  and  a quarter  of  the  same  goodness.  And  so  it  is  in  silver.  An 
ounce  of  silver  will  always  be  of  equal  value  to  an  ounce  of  silver.  Nor  can 
it  ever  rise  or  fall  in  respect  of  itself.  An  ounce  of  standard  silver  can 
never  be  worth  an  ounce  and  a quarter  of  standard  silver  ; nor  one  ounce  of 
uncoined  silver  exchange  for  an  ounce  and  a quarter  of  coined  silver.  The 
stamp  cannot  so  much  debase  its  value.”  1 

“Mr.  Lowndes,”  he  added  later  on  in  his  essay,  “compares  the  value  of 
silver  in  our  coin  to  the  value  of  the  same  silver  reduced  to  bullion,  which  he, 
supposing  to  be  as  four  to  five,  makes  that  the  measure  of  raising  our  money. 
If  this  be  the  difference  of  value  between  silver  in  bullion  and  silver  in  coin, 
and  if  it  be  true  that  four  ounces  of  standard  bullion  be  worth  five  ounces 
of  the  same  silver  coined,  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  that  bullion  will  sell 
by  the  ounce  for  six  shillings  and  fivepence  unclipped  money,  I will  take  the 
boldness  to  advise  his  majesty  to  buy,  or  to  borrow  anywhere,  so  much 
bullion,  or,  rather  than  be  without  it,  melt  down  so  much  plate,  as  is  equal 
in  weight  to  1200?.  sterling  of  our  present  milled  money.  This  let  him  sell  for 
milled  money.  And,  according  to  our  author’s  rule,  it  will  yield  1500?.  Let 
that  1500?.  be  reduced  into  bullion,  and  sold  again,  and  it  will  produce  1875?.; 
which  1875?.  of  weighty  money  being  reduced  into  bullion,  will  still  produce 
one  fifth  more  in  weight  of  silver,  being  sold  for  weighty  money.  And  thus  his 
majesty  may  get  at  least  320,000?.  by  selling  of  bullion  for  weighty  money, 
and  melting  that  down  into  bullion  as  fast  as  he  receives  it ; till  he  has 


Further  Considerations,’  etc.,  p.  27. 


336 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


brought  into  bis  hands  the  1,600,000/,  which  Mr.  Lowndes  computes  there  is 
of  weighty  money  left  in  England.  I doubt  not  but  every  one  who  reads  it 
will  think  this  a very  ridiculous  proposition.  But  he  must  think  it  ridiculous 
for  no  other  reason  but  because  he  sees  it  is  impossible  that  bullion  should 
sell  for  one  fifth  above  its  weight  of  the  same  silver  coined ; that  is,  that  an 
ounce  of  standard  silver  should  sell  for  six  shillings  and  fivepence  of  our 
present  weighty  money.  For,  if  it  will,  it  is  no  ridiculous  thing  that  the 
king  should  melt  down  and  make  that  profit  of  his  money.”1 

It  was  Locke’s  object  to  show  the  ridiculous  meaning  of  Lowndes’s  falla- 
cies, and  this  he  certainly  did  so  well  that  unfair  critics  may  be  tempted  to 
urge  that  he  was  talking  nonsense.  If  he  did  that,  it  was  only  because  the 
specious  phrases  of  his  opponent  sadly  needed  to  be  cleared  of  the  ponderous 
pretence  of  wisdom  in  which  they  were  framed.  Lowndes  thus  stated  one 
of  the  many  advantages  that  he  anticipated  from  giving  an  artificial  value  to 
the  coin  : — “ The  raising  the  value  of  the  silver  in  the  coin  will  increase  the 
whole  species  in  tale,  and  thereby  make  it  more  commensurate  to  the  general 
need  thereof  for  carrying  on  the  common  traffic  of  the  nation,  and  to  answei 
the  payments  on  the  numerous  contracts,  securities,  and  other  daily  occa- 
sions requiring  a larger  supply  of  money  for  that  purpose.  This  reason 
may  be  further  illustrated  by  considering  that  the  want  of  a sufficient  stock 
of  money  hath  been  the  chief  cause  of  introducing  so  much  paper  credit, 
which  is  at  best  hazardous,  and  may  be  carried  too  far.”  To  which  Locke 
answered  : — “ Just  as  the  boy  cut  his  leather  into  five  quarters  (as  he  called 
them)  to  cover  his  ball,  when  cut  into  four  quarters  it  fell  short — but  after 
all  his  pains,  as  much  of  his  ball  lay  bare  as  before — if  the  quantity  of 
coined  silver  employed  in  England  fall  short,  the  arbitrary  denomination 
of  a greater  number  of  pence  given  to  it,  or,  which  is  all  one,  to  the  several 
coined  pieces  of  it,  will  not  make  it  commensurate  to  the  size  of  our  trade, 
or  the  greatness  of  our  occasions.  This  is  as  certain  as  that  if  the  quantity 
of  a board,  which  is  to  stop  a leak  of  a ship  fifteen  inches  square,  be  but 
twelve  inches  square,  it  will  not  be  made  to  do  it  by  being  measured  by  a 
foot  that  is  divided  into  fifteen  inches  instead  of  twelve,  and  so  having  a 
larger  tale  or  number  of  inches  in  denomination  given  to  it.”  2 

There  were  more  serious  passages  in  Locke’s  pamphlet ; but  the  whole 
was  designed  to  expose,  by  laughing  at  them,  the  absurd  fallacies  that 
Lowndes  had  strung  together.  No  better  plan  could  have  been  adopted 
for  convincing  the  men  of  such  moderate  intelligence  as  the  ordinary  mem- 


1 ‘Further  Considerations,’  etc.,  pp.  55 — 57. 


2 Ibid.,  p.  64. 


1695-6  1 
it.  63. J 


THE  EE -COINAGE  BILL. 


337 


bars  of  parliament  in  William  the  Third's  day,  and,  the  fallacies  not  being 
still  quite  obsolete,  Locke’s  mockery  is  not  yet  quite  out  of  date.  But  no 
more  of  it  need  here  be  quoted. 

Locke’s  share  in  the  details  of  the  re-coinage  hill 
cannot  he  traced.  Being  out  of  London  all  through  the 
time  of  its  discussion  in  parliament,  he  cannot  then  have 
given  much  advice  to  Montagu ; but  it  is  certain  that 
before  he  left  town  in  November  he  took  an  important 
part  in  the  arrangement  of  the  general  scheme,  and  he 
was  probably  concerned  in  drawing  up  the  resolutions 
with  which  Montagu  introduced  the  subject  to  the  house 
of  commons  in  the  first  week  of  December.  Those  reso- 
lutions, which  were  adopted  after  some  hard  fighting, 
stipulated  that  all  new  money  should  be  coined  in  accord- 
ance with  the  old  standard,  that  the  use  of  clipped  money 
should,  after  intervals  to  be  specified,  become  illegal,  and 
that  the  public  exchequer  should  bear  the  loss  upon  the 
difference  in  actual  value  between  bad  money  and  good. 
Their  acceptance  was  soon  followed  by  the  re-coinage 
bill,  in  which  it  was  stipulated  that,  to  provide  for  the 
loss  to  the  public,  1,200. 000Z.  should  be  borrowed  from 
the  bank  of  England  on  the  security  of  a window-tax. 
The  bill  passed  rapidly  through  the  lower  house,  but  met 
with  considerable  opposition  from  the  peers.  Before 
their  amendments  came  down  for  consideration,  serious 
prejudices  were  aroused  in  the  minds  of  many  members 
who  had  previously  voted  for  it,  in  consequence  of  a 
panic  that  had  seized  the  country,  under  a foolish  fear 
that  clipped  money  would  become  illegal  before  the  new 
coinage  was  introduced.  Montagu  therefore  deemed  it 
prudent  to  adopt,  without  opposition,  the  lords’  altera- 
tions, which  hardly  touched  the  principle  of  the  measure. 
Thus  the  bill,  though  not  as  perfect  as  its  framers 
Vol.  II. — 22 


338 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


desired,  became  law  in  April,  1696.1  Locke  and  bis 
friends  bad  gained  their  victory. 

“ The  business  of  our  money  lias  so  near  brought  us  to 
ruin,”  Locke  wrote  to  Molyneux  at  the  end  of  March, 
“that,  till  the  plot  broke  out,  it  was  everybody’s  talk, 
everybody’s  uneasiness;  and,  because  I had  played  the  fool 
to  print  about  it,  there  was  scarce  a post  wherein  some- 
body or  other  did  not  give  me  fresh  trouble  about  it.  But 
now  the  parliament  has  reduced  guineas  to  two  and  twenty 
shillings  apiece  after  the  10th,  and  prohibited  the  receipt 
of  clipped  money  after  the  4th  of  May  next.  The  bill 
has  passed  both  houses,  and,  I believe,  will  speedily  receive 
the  royal  assent.  Though  I can  never  bethink  any  pains 
or  time  of  mine  in  the  service  of  my  country,  as  far  as  I 
may  be  of  any  use,  yet  I must  own  to  you  this  and  the 
like  subjects  are  not  those  which  I now  relish  or  that  do, 
with  most  pleasure,  employ  my  thoughts.”2  Locke  was 
just  then  in  worse  health  than  usual,  and  he  was  evidently 
tired  of  the  frivolous  interruptions  that  his  great  services 
towards  a settlement  of  the  currency  question  had  caused 
him. 

Of  those  interruptions  one  illustration  may  be  given. 
Some  weeks  before  the  end  of  February,  Archbishop 
Tenison — made  primate  on  the  death  of  Tillotson,  in 
November,  1694 — had  forwarded  to  him,  with  a wrong 
address,  a manuscript  pamphlet,  written  by  some  friend  of 
his,  which  he  desired  Locke  to  criticise.  Immediately  on 
receiving  the  parcel,  Locke  wrote  to  acknowledge  it,3  and 

1 Journals  of  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  House  of  Lords,  Dec.  1695, 
and  Jan.  1695-6. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  141 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  30  March,  1696. 

3 MSS.  in  Lambeth  Palace,  vol.  cmxxx.  ( Gibson  Papers,  vol.  ii.),  no.  23; 
Locke  to  Tenison,  27  Feb.,  1695-6. 


OPPOSITION  TO  THE  NEW  COINAGE. 


1698.  "I 
iEt.  63.  J 


339 


on  the  following  day  he  sent  off  the  following  extremely 
courteous  letter : — 

“ May  it  please  your  Grace, — I took  the  liberty  to  trouble  your  grace 
with  two  letters  yesterday,  the  one  to  trouble  your  grace  with  an  account  of 
the  delay  of  your  grace’s  packet  in  coming  hither,  and  the  other  to  inform 
you  that  I had  just  then  received  it. " 

“ My  letters  were  no  sooner  gone  but  I betook  myself  to  the  reading  the 
manuscript  you  did  me  the  honour  to  send  me,  and,  upon  perusal  of  it,  in 
obedience  to  your  grace’s  commands,  I must  own  to  your  grace  my  dissent 
from  the  author  in  the  design  of  his  papers,  which  is,  I take  it,  to  prove  that 
the  lessening  of  our  coin  would  be  an  advantage  to  the  kingdom.  The 
stress  of  his  argument  is,  if  I mistake  not,  laid  upon  this  supposition,  viz., 
that,  though  foreigners  will  presently  raise  the  price  of  their  commodities  in 
proportion  to  our  raising  the  denomination  of  our  money,  yet  our  own  people 
will  not.  To  make  good  this  supposition,  the  author  says  (page  3rd), 

‘ Instances  of  this  may  be  given  innumerable.  For  the  clipping  of  our 
money  had  an  effect  equal  to  any  public  alteration  of  the  denomination,  and 
yet  it  was  for  a great  while  so  far  from  affecting  our  commodities  that 
’tis  known  the  light  money  would  have  bought  the  heavy,  and  that  in  a 
goldsmith’s  shop  five  ounces  of  clipped  money  would  have  bought  sis  ounces 
of  plate,  and  that  purely  by  virtue  of  its  denomination.’  I guess  these  innu- 
merable instances,  when  examined,  will  not  amount  to  one.  That  here  given, 

I am  sure,  is  none.  For,  if  I mistake  not,  ‘the  clipping  of  our  money’ 
had  not  ‘ an  effect  equal  to  any  public  alteration.’  The  difference  was  mani- 
festly this,  that,  though  a clipped  shilling  had  not  the  silver  and  so  not  the 
value  of  a weighty  one,  yet  there  went  with  it  a belief  that,  when  the  money 
should  come  to  be  rectified,  the  public  would  make  good  to  every  one  the 
deficiency  of  silver  in  the  clipped  money,  and  so,  on  that  presumption,  it 
was  taken  for  as  good  as  weighty  money,  since  it  would  at  last  produce  to 
every  one  as  much  silver  as  ought  to  he  in  weighty  money,  as  in  effect  we 
now  see  care  is  taken  it  should.  And,  according  as  clipped  money  met  with 
more  or  less  of  this  belief,  so  it  had  the  easier  or  more  difficult  passage. 
But  when  once  a law  has  established  our  coin  one-fifth  lighter,  and  the 
hopes  that  ever  the  fifth  part  will  be  made  good  to  the  receivers  of  that 
money  are  quite  gone,  then  nobody  will  ever  be  able  in  a goldsmith’s  shop 
to  buy  six  ounces  of  plate  with  five  ounces  of  this  money  by  virtue  of  its 
denomination.  If  the  author  will  say  it  will,  I grant  him  all  the  rest  of  his 
treatise  to  be  right.  If  he  confesses  it  will  not,  then  all  that  he  builds  on  it 
falls  with  it  and  is  at  an  end. 


340 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


“ I need  not  apply  this  particularly  to  all  this  gentleman’s  deductions 
drawn  from  this  mistaken  supposition  : his  own  quickness  (for  he  is  not  a 
man  of  slow  thoughts)  will  excuse  me  from  giving  your  grace  that  trouble. 
At  least,  the  papers  having  lain  so  long  by  the  way,  I thought  it  my  duty, 
on  once  reading,  to  give  my  opinion  in  short  by  the  very  first  opportunity, 
rather  than  add  any  longer  time  to  that  delay  which  I fear  has  already  much 
exceeded  expectation.  I have  not  with  this  returned  the  manuscript,  be- 
cause I thought  that  either  the  author  had  another  copy,  or,  if  not,  that  this 
I have  was  not  to  be  ventured  by  so  uncertain  a way  as  I send  this.  And 
I have  the  rather  kept  it  by  me  that,  if  anything  farther  be  required  of  me, 
I may  be  able  to  obey  your  grace’s  demands,  when  I am  sure  I may  with 
good  manners  take  longer  time  to  go  over  the  particulars,  if  that  or  any 
farther  thoughts  of  mine  on  this  discourse  be  more  of  leisure  expected  from 
me.  The  author  has  done  me  too  great  honour  in  demanding  my  opinion, 
and  will,  I doubt  not,  forgive  my  complying  with  him  so  far  as  to  profess  it, 
though  it  differs  from  his.  If  your  grace  please  to  honour  me  with  any 
farther  commands,  a letter  directed  to  me  at  Oates,  to  be  left  at  Mr.  Samuel 
Jocelin’s,  in  Bishop  Stortford,  by  the  post,  will  find  the  way  hither. 

“ I am,  your  grace’s  most  humble  and  most  obedient  servant, 

“John  Locke.”1 

During  the  weeks  just  before  and  shortly  after  the 
passing  of  the  re-coinage  bill,  Locke  seems  to  have 
been  sometimes  in  fear  that  it  would  be  of  no  avail  in 
repressing  the  worst  evils  of  the  old  system  and  silencing 
the  proposals  of  those  who  followed  the  lead  of  Lowndes. 
In  one  letter  to  Clarke  he  expressed  alarm  lest  that  party 
should  after  all  be  able  “ to  compass  their  so  long  laboured 
design  of  raising  the  denomination  of  our  coin.”  “Did 
I not  see  so  ready  a motion  towards  them,”  he  added,  “ 1 
could  scarce  imagine  that  any  Englishman  could  harbour 
a thought  so  destructive  to  his  country  as  I apprehend 
this  to  be.  But  what  may  one  not  believe  of  Englishmen, 
when  there  are  those  found  amongst  them  that  would 
favour  a French  invasion  ? Is  there  no  hopes  to  put  a 

1 MSS.  in  Lambeth  Palace,  vol.  cmxxx.  ( Gibson  Papers,  vol.  ii.),  no.  18; 
Locke  to  Tenison,  28  Feb.,  1695-6. 


1606.  "I 
Mt.  63.  J 


OPPOSITION  TO  THE  NEW  COINAGE. 


341 


total  end  to  clipping  and  coining — that  is,  counterfeiting? 
Methinks  the  present  ferment  should  take  some  vigour, 
and  put  a stop  to  that  great  and  surely  destructive 
evil.” 1 

“ I see  by  the  temper  the  country  is  in  (and  I doubt 
not  but  there  are  those  who  will  blow  the  coal),”  he  wrote 
a month  later,  “ that,  if  London  do  not  set  them  good 
example,  the  act  will  be  broken  through,  and  clipping 
will  he  continued  upon  us.  The  trade,  I am  sure,  goes 
on  as  brisk  as  ever.  A company  was  lately  taken  at  or 
about  Ware.  Somebody  ready,  as  soon  as  the  day  comes, 
to  arrest  a goldsmith  that  refused  to  pay  money  according 
to  the  law,  would  spoil  the  trick,  especially  if  several  of 
them  were  made  examples.  If  clipped  money  once  but 
get  currency  in  London  amongst  those  blades,  but  for  the 
first  week  after  the  4th  of  May,  I look  upon  it  as  irre- 
trievable. But,  if  it  be  stopped  there,  the  rest  of  the 
kingdom  will  fall  into  it,  especially  if  receiving  clipped 
money  by  weight  can  be  introduced.  These  are  at  present 
my  thoughts,  which  I trouble  those  with  w7ho  are  able  to 
make  use  of  them,  if  they  may  be  of  any.”  2 It  will  be 
remembered  that  Clarke  was  now  an  influential  member 
of  parliament. 

“I  agree  with  you,”  Locke  said,  a fortnight  after  the 
4th  of  May,  in  answer  to  some  suggestion  made  by  Clarke 
in  a letter  that  is  missing,  “ that  a proclamation  of  the 
lords  justices  to  the  purpose  you  mention  would  be  of 
infinite  use,  and  I hope  those  who  have  done  so  much  in 
this  affair  will  be  able  to  obtain  that  too ; and  take  care 
the  proclamation  be  so  drawn,  or  by  such  a hand,  as  may 
not  increase  the  difficulties  and  doubts.  Some  examples 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  25  March,  1696. 

2 Ibid.;  Locke  to  Clarke,  24  April,  1696. 


342 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XI IL 


of  the  kind  you  mention,  especially  among  the  Lombard- 
street  blades,  would  make  the  matter  go  glib,  and  raise 
the  croak  against  them,  and  turn  the  poor  suffering 
people’s  eyes  upon  them ; for  there  lies  the  great  obstruc- 
tion. Hold  hut  tight  as  you  have  begun  in  London,  and 
we  shall  do  well  enough.”1 

Among  many  men  of  influence  with  whom  Locke  was 
for  the  first  time  brought  into  connection  by  his  public 
efforts  towards  reform  of  the  currency,  John  Cary,  a mer- 
chant of  Bristol,  deserves  to  he  particularly  mentioned. 
As  soon  as  Locke’s  answer  to  Lowndes  was  published, 
Cary  wrote  to  thank  him  for  the  service  he  had  thus  done 
to  the  nation.  “ I think  you  have  hit  the  mark,”  he  said. 
“ ’Tis  the  balance  of  our  trade  with  foreign  countries,  not 
altering  the  standard  of  our  coin,  which  increases  or 
lessens  our  bullion  at  home.”  In  this  letter  Cary  pointed 
out  some  errors  in  figures  occurring  in  the  ‘ Further  Con- 
siderations,’ for  which  Locke  was  grateful.2  He  also 
forwarded  with  it  1 An  Essay  on  Trade,’  which  he  had 
written  ; and  with  this  work  Locke  was  much  pleased. 
“It  is  the  best  discourse  I ever  read  on  that  subject,”  he 
said,  “not  only  for  the  clearness  of  all  that  you  deliver, 
and  the  undoubted  evidence  of  most  of  it,  but  for  a reason 
that  weighs  with  me  more  than  both  those,  and  that  is 
that  sincere  aim  of  the  public  good  and  that  disinterested 
reasoning  that  appears  to  me  in  all  your  proposals  ; a thing 
that  I have  not  been  able  to  find  in  those  authors  on  the 
same  argument  which  I have  looked  into.  The  country 
gentleman,  who  is  most  concerned  in  a right  ordering  of 
trade,  both  in  duty  and  interest,  is  of  all  others  the  most 
remote  from  any  true  notions  of  it  or  sense  in  his  stake  in 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  18  May  [1696]. 

* Ibid.,  no.  5540;  Cary  to  Locke,  11  Jan.,  1695-6. 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  JOHN  CARY. 


343 


1696.  1 
■ffit.  63  J 

it,  ’Tis  high  time  somebody  should  awaken  and  inform 
him,  that  he  may  in  his  place  look  a little  after  it.  I 
know  nobody  so  able  to  do  it  as  you,  and  in  no  party  or 
interest.”  1 

“ A worthy  rational  man  and  a disinterested  lover  of 
his  country,”  Locke  wrote  as  soon  as  he  found  that  Cary 
answered  to  that  description,  “is  so  valuable  a thing  that 
I think  I may  be  allowed  to  be  very  ambitious  of  such 
acquaintance  whensoever  I can  meet  with  it.”2  During 
the  next  few  years  Locke  had  frequent  intercourse  with 
Cary  wdien  they  were  together  in  London,  and  took 
especial  interest  in  the  exploit  for  which  Cary  is  chiefly 
to  be  remembered  in  English  history.  The  philan- 
thropic Bristol  merchant,  finding  that  there  were  about 
a thousand  paupers  in  his  city,  though  not  more  than 
thirty  of  them  were  too  old  or  infirm  to  work,  persuaded 
several  of  his  influential  neighbours  to  form  a com- 
mittee of  sixty  “ guardians  of  the  poor,”  and  to  join  him 
in  building  a great  workhouse,  where  all  who  did  not 
choose  to  earn  their  living  in  other  ways  should  be  com- 
pelled to  maintain  themselves.3  This  plan,  established 
after  many  difficulties,  was  legalized  by  a special  act  of 
parliament,4  and  formed  an  important  contribution  towards 
the  modern  reformation  of  our  poor  laws.  By  it  John 
Cary  earned  a better  right  to  the  gratitude  of  posterity 
than  his  more  famous  but  not  more  philanthropic  friend 
and  fellow- citizen,  Edward  Colston. 


1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  5540  ; Locke  to  Cary,  2 May,  1696. 

2 Ibid.,  no.  5540;  Locke  to  Cary,  12  April,  1696. 

3 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  in  the  Public  Record  Office,  vol.  iv.,  pp.  263 — 
269. 

4 7th  and  8th  of  William  III.,  cap.  32  (private  acts). 


344 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  Xm. 


Though  Locke  was  a commissioner  of  appeals  during  at 
least  eleven  or  twelve  years,  there  is  not  much  to  be  said 
about  his  occupations  in  that  capacity.  There  must  have 
been  a good  deal  of  work  to  be  done  in  the  office,  in 
adjustment  of  claims  and  quarrels  growing  out  of  the 
disorganised  state  of  public  affairs  under  Charles  the 
Second  and  James  the  Second  and  the  turmoil  of  the 
Revolution  ; hut  most  of  this  was  probably  disposed  of  by 
a secretary  and  his  clerks,  under  the  supervision  of  the 
other  commissioners  who  resided  in  London.  Locke’s 
appointment  to  the  post  appears  to  have  been  made  on 
the  understanding  that  it  should  not  take  up  much  of  his 
time,  and,  after  his  settlement  at  Oates,  at  any  rate,  it 
cannot  possibly  have  done  so.  That  it  was  not  quite  a 
sinecure,  however,  is  evident  from  the  very  slight  in- 
formation that  we  have  respecting  his  connection  with  it. 

His  friend,  Edward  Clarke,  held  a somewhat  similar, 
though  less  dignified  and  more  onerous  position,  as  com- 
missioner of  excise,  and  he  seems,  in  April,  1696,  to  have 
complained  to  Locke  about  the  delay  in  dealiug  with 
some  claim  in  which  he  was  especially  interested.  “ As 
to  the  commission  of  appeals,”  Locke  replied  from  Oates, 
“ I could  do  no  more  than  I did,  unless  I could  have 
heard  and  judged  by  myself.  I took  three  journeys  to 
London  on  purpose,  but  neither  found  any  more  than 
Mr.  Dodington  ” — one  of  his  colleagues — “in  town,  nor 
could,  with  my  utmost  endeavours,  get  three  together. 
The  last  time  my  health  forced  me  out  of  town  in  haste, 
and,  there  being  four  then  present,  I could  not  think  my 
absence  could  hinder  their  proceeding  to  judgment,  and 
yet  I should  have  come  up  had  not  my  illness  at  that 
time  kept  me  in  bed  and  not  permitted  me  that  attend- 
ance without  danger  of  my  life.  But  pray  tell  me,  have 


it963.]  WOKE  AS  COMMISSIONER  OF  APPEALS.  345 

not  my  brethren  determined  that  cause,  and  at  what 
sticks  it  ? Mr.  Tilson,  a clerk  in  the  treasury,  our  secre- 
tary, knows  how  much  I laboured  to  get  a quorum  and 
to  bring  the  appeals  to  a hearing,  and  you  are  not  wholly 
stranger  to  it.”  1 

Two  months  later,  on  the  18th  of  June,  Locke  was  in 
London  and  helped  to  make  a quorum  at  the  consideration 
of  an  appeal  from  a distiller,  named  Woodcock,  against  a 
decision  of  the  commissioners  of  excise,  and  on  that  day 
he,  along  with  two  other  commissioners,  signed  a letter 
to  the  excise  commissioners  on  the  subject.2  A couple  of 
days  afterwards  he  learnt  that  the  letter  had  been  tam- 
pered with.  “I  return  you  my  thanks,”  he  then  wrote, 
“for  the  favour  you  have  done  me  in  letting  me  have  a 
sight  of  that  letter.  I was  startled  when  I at  first  was 
told  that  there  was  the  mention  of  witnesses  in  it,  being 
very  sure  that  I had  not  so  far  mistaken  the  common 
rules  of  all  judicial  proceedings  as  to  set  my  hand  to  a 
summons  of  witnesses  in  a cause  that  I was  to  judge,  when 
it  was  not  demanded  of  me  by  either  of  the  parties  con- 
cerned. All  the  rest  of  the  letter  I own  to  have  set  my 
hand  to ; but  these  words,  ‘ and  the  witnesses,’  which  are 
interlined  in  that  letter,  I know  nothing  of ; nor  were  they 
there  when  I signed  the  letter,  and  therefore  I must 
desire  you  to  look  on  them  as  not  coming  from  me.”3 

It  is  not  necessary  to  endeavour  to  clear  up  the  points 
involved  either  in  Locke’s  private  letter  to  Clarke  from 
Oates,  or  in  his  letter  to  the  commissioners  of  excise,  of 
whom  Clarke  was  one.  The  only  value  of  these  letters  to 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290 ; Locke  to  Clarke,  16  April,  1696. 

2 Treasury  Papers  (in  the  Public  Record  Office),  vol.  xxxviii.,  no.  63  ; 
Commissioners  of  Appeal  to  Commissioners  of  Excise,  18  June,  1696. 

3 Ibid.  ; Locke  to  Commissioners  of  Excise,  20  June,  1696. 


346 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


us  is  in  the  slender  help  they  give  us  towards  understand- 
ing the  nature  of  his  occasional  duties  as  a commissioner 
of  appeals.  At  the  time  of  writing  them  he  waspreparing 
to  enter  upon  work  of  far  greater  importance  concerning 
which  we  are  much  more  fully  informed. 


The  reformation  of  the  currency  was  only  one  of  the 
great  services  that  Somers  and  Montagu,  as  the  ablest 
and  most  active  members  of  the  government  that  was 
re-shaped  in  the  spring  of  1695,  rendered  to  their  country; 
and  in  at  least  one  other  of  extreme  value  they  were 
aided  by  the  wisdom  and  experience  of  Locke.  In  the 
currency  reform  Locke  took  the  initiative,  and,  having- 
insisted  not  only  on  a change,  but  also  on  the  main  con- 
ditions on  which  that  change  was  to  be  effected,  he  left  the 
working  out  of  its  details  to  associates  better  qualified  for 
the  task.  In  projecting  the  commission  of  trade  and 
plantations,  out  of  which  our  present  board  of  trade  and 
colonial  office  have  grown,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  had 
much  or  anything  to  do ; but  the  business  of  laying  the 
foundations  of  all  the  administrative  duties  for  which 
these  and  other  departments  of  the  public  service  are  now 
responsible  chiefly  devolved  upon  him. 

William  the  Third  had  inherited  the  administrative 
machinery  of  the  later  Stuarts,  and  only  slowly  proceeded 
to  reconstruct  it.  His  first  cabinets,  or  cabals,  or  juntos, 
were  made  up  indiscriminately  of  wliigs  and  tories,  men 
of  different  parties  and  men  of  no  party,  selected  primarily 
in  hope  of  thereby  strengthening  the  loyalty  of  the  various 
cliques  and  factions  that  they  represented,  and  secondarily 
because  they  were  thought  suitable  men  to  execute  the 


THE  COMMISSION  OF  TEADE  AND  PLANTATIONS.  347 

work  assigned  to  them.  But  the  work  was  for  the  most 
part  ill-defined,  and  for  some  time  there  was  very  little 
effort  to  parcel  out  the  public  business  into  separate 
departments  and  still  less  to  bring  all  public  business 
under  departmental  supervision.  This  was  especially  the 
case  as  regarded  such  important  concerns  as  the  protec- 
tion or  custody  of  the  poor  throughout  the  country,  or  the 
direction  of  the  relations  in  which  English  traders  and 
manufacturers  should  stand  to  one  another,  to  foreign 
traders  and  manufacturers,  or  to  foreign  governments,  or 
the  guidance  and  control  of  the  numerous  colonies  that 
were  established  during  the  seventeenth  century.  The 
first  Lord  Shaftesbury  had  induced  Charles  the  Second 
to  appoint  a council  of  trade  and  plantations,  and  during 
most  of  its  short  life  Locke  had  been  its  secretary.  But 
that  council,  never  supported  by  either  king  or  parlia- 
ment, was  speedily  abandoned  under  the  pressure  of  the 
political  and  religious  struggles  that  absorbed  all  men’s 
thoughts  at  that  time,  and  no  attempt  seems  to  have 
been  made  to  revive  it  until  more  than  six  years  after 
William’s  accession. 

No  sooner,  however,  had  the  tolerably  compact  govern- 
ment which  followed  Carmarthen’s  disgrace  taken  shape 
under  the  guidance,  though  not  the  nominal  leadership, 
of  Sir  John  Somers,  than  the  old  council  was  thought  of. 
It  was  felt  by  many  outsiders  as  well  as  by  the  more 
active  members  of  the  government  that  trade,  in  the 
widest  application  and  ramifications  of  the  term,  could  no 
longer  be  neglected.  Currency  reform  was  more  urgently 
needed  than  anything  else,  and  that  was  first  undertaken ; 
but  currency  reform  was  only  one  out  of  many  items  in 
the  work  to  be  done  if  England  in  its  domestic  and  com- 
mercial concerns  was  to  obtain  substantial  benefit  from 


348 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIIT. 


the  Devolution,  and,  while  that  was  in  progress,  the  entire 
question  was  not  ignored. 

It  is  not  recorded  that  Locke  had  any  part  in 
the  discussion  and  management  of  it ; but  as  he 
was  now  in  close  communication  with  the  govern- 
ment respecting  the  coinage,  as  he  had  nearly  a quarter 
of  a century  before  had  thorough  experience  of  the 
difficulties  and  requirements  to  he  met  in  the  handling 
of  this  matter,  and  as  his  recent  work  on  ‘ The  Lowering 
of  Interest  ’ had  given  fresh  proof  of  his  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  trade  in  its  theoretical  and  practical 
conditions,  there  can  hardly  be  any  doubt  that  he  was 
freely  consulted  by  Somers  and  some  of  his  associates. 
As  he  paid  only  a few  short  visits  to  London  during  1695, 
however,  and  as  his  time  was  then  very  fully  occupied 
with  other  matters,  it  is  not  likely  that  he  had  much  if 
any  part  in  the  arrangement  of  the  details  or  in  elabo- 
rating the  plan  of  action,  and  it  is  probable  that  the 
constitution  of  the  proposed  commission  of  trade  and 
plantations  which  was  ready  for  the  king’s  signature  early 
in  December  was  arranged,  and  that  even  his  name  was 
inserted  in  it  as  one  of  the  commissioners,  without  his 
knowledge.1 

“ I was  some  days  ago  extremely  pleased,”  the  Earl  of 
Monmouth  wrote  to  him  on  the  12th  of  December,  “ when 
the  king  was  brought  to  so  reasonable  a resolution  as  to 
determine  upon  a council  of  trade,  where  some  great  men 
were  to  assist,  but  where  others,  with  salaries  of  1000Z. 
a year,  were  to  be  fixed  as  the  constant  labourers.  Mr. 
Locke  being  to  be  of  the  number  made  me  have  the 
better  opinion  of  the  thing.  But,  according  to  our 
accustomed  wisdom  and  prudence,  when  all  things  had 
1 Docquet  Book  (in  the  Public  Record  Office),  vol.  xx. 


^t5G3.]  THE  commission  of  trade  and  plantations.  349 

been  a good  while  adjusted,  the  patent  ready  for  the  seal, 
and  some  very  able  and  honest  men  provided  for  your 
companions,  it  was  impossible  to  get  the  king  to  sign  it ; 
but,  delaying  it  from  day  to  day,  the  parliament  this  day 
fell  upon  it,  and  are  going  to  form  such  a commission,  to 
be  nominated  by  themselves.  Mr.  Locke  may  be  the 
choice  of  the  house  as  well  as  the  king’s.  If  it  take  that 
course,  if  the  ill  weather  prevent  you  not,  it  were  not 
improper  you  were  in  town ; but,  above  all  things,  take 
care  of  yourself,  without  which  your  friends  will  lose  the 
pleasure  of  serving  you.  I hope  we  may  make  the  house 
desist,  and  that  your  affair  is  fixed.”  1 

Locke  was  not  at  all  anxious  to  be  a member  of  the 
commission,  but  he  was  anxious  that  the  business  pro- 
posed for  it  should  be  entered  upon,  and  perhaps  he  was 
not  sorry  to  find  that  the  house  of  commons  showed 
such  eagerness  in  the  matter  as  to  attempt  to  take  it  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  government.  For  some  unexplained 
reason,  however,  perhaps  because  the  re-coinage  bill, 
and  the  important  operations  consequent  upon  it,  ab- 
sorbed all  the  attention  of  those  most  concerned  in  the 
establishment  of  the  commission  of  trade  and  planta- 
tions, though  its  patent  was  signed  and  ready  to  be  issued 
on  the  16th  of  December,  1695,  no  further  action  was  taken 
upon  it  for  nearly  half  a year.  “ I shall  not  be  sorry,” 
Locke  wrote  to  Molyneux  at  the  end  of  March,  1696, 
“ if  I ’scape  a very  honourable  employment,  with  a 1000k 
a year  salary  annexed  to  it,  to  which  the  king  was  pleased 
to  nominate  me  some  time  since.  May  I have  but  quiet 
and  leisure  and  a competency  of  health  to  perfect  some 
thoughts  my  mind  is  sometimes  upon,  I should  desire  no 


1 Lord  King,  p.  233;  Monmouth  to  Locke,  12  Dec.,  1695. 


350 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


more  for  myself  in  this  world.”1  He  appears  to  have 
asked  permission  to  decline  the  appointment,  of  which 
Sir  John  Somers  had  written  to  inform  him,  apologising 
while  he  did  so  for  having  inserted  his  name  in  the 
commission  without  his  “ express  consent.”  2 He  was 
re-appointed,  however,  in  an  amended  patent  that  was 
issued  on  the  15th  of  May,  and  immediately  afterwards  he 
was  called  upon  to  begin  his  duties.  “ The  public  requires 
your  help,  and  consequently  your  attendance  in  town,” 
wrote  Sir  William  Trumbull,  the  very  honest  and  very 
good-hearted,  hut  not  very  brilliant,  assistant  secretary 
of  state.  “ The  council  of  trade,  whereof  you  are  most 
worthily  appointed  a member,  must  go  on  with  effect,  or 
the  greatest  inconveniences  and  mischief  will  follow.  I 
hope  your  health  will  permit  you  to  come  and  make  some 
stay  here ; and  what  reluctancy  soever  you  may  have  to 
appear  among  us,  I know  your  love  to  your  country  and 
your  great  zeal  for  our  common  interests  will  over- 
come it.”  3 

By  the  patent  of  the  15th  of  May  the  eight  principal 
officers  of  state  and  six  other  persons  besides  Locke 
were  appointed  “ commissioners  for  promoting  the  trade 
of  the  kingdom,  and  for  inspecting  and  improving  the 
plantations  in  America  and  elsewhere.”  They  were 
authorised  and  empowered  “ to  inquire  into  and  take 
account  of  the  state  and  condition  of  the  general  trade  of 
England  and  also  of  the  several  particular  trades  into  all 
foreign  parts,  and  how  the  same,  respectively,  are  ad- 
vanced and  decayed ; and  to  inquire  into  and  examine 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  142 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  30  March, 
1696. 

2 Lord  King,  p.  243. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  243;  Trumbull  to  Locke,  19  May,  1696. 


APPOINTMENT  AS  COMMISSIONER  OF  TRADE.  351 

what  trades  are  or  may  prove  hurtful,  or  are  or-  may  ho 
made  beneficial  to  the  kingdom  of  England,  and  by  what 
ways  and  means  the  profitable  and  advantageous  trades 
may  he  more  improved  and  extended,  and  the  hurtful  and 
prejudicial  rectified  or  discouraged,  and  to  inquire  into 
the  several  obstructions  of  trade  and  the  means  of  re- 
moving the  same,  and  also  in  what  manner  and  by  what 
proper  methods  the  trade  of  the  kingdom  may  be  most 
effectually  protected  and  secured  in  all  the  parts  thereof, 
and  to  consider  by  what  means  the  several  useful  and 
profitable  manufactures  already  settled  in  the  kingdom 
may  be  further  improved  and  in  what  manner  most  profit- 
able manufactures  maybe  introduced.”  They  were  “to 
consider  of  some  proper  methods  for  setting  on  work  and 
employing  the  poor  of  the  kingdom  and  making  them 
useful  to  the  public,  and  thereby  easing  the  nation  of 
that  burthen,  and  by  what  ways  and  means  such  designs 
may  be  most  effectual.”  They  were,  at  their  discretion, 
“ to  inform  themselves  of  all  things  relating  to  trade  and 
the  encouraging  thereof,  as  also  to  consider  of  the  best 
and  most  effectual  means  to  regain,  encourage,  and 
establish  the  fishery  of  the  kingdom.”  Even  more  ex- 
tensive were  their  functions  as  overseers  of  all  the  English 
colonies.  They  were  to  look  after  the  plantations,  “ as 
well  with  regard  to  the  administration  of  the  govern- 
ment and  justice  in  those  places  as  in  relation  to  the 
commerce  thereof,”  including  the  improvement  of  the 
soil,  the  introduction  of  new  commodities,  and  a score  of 
other  matters.1 

The  principal  officers  of  state  were  ex-officio  members, 
unpaid,  and  only  expected  to  take  a general  supervision 

1 Board  of  Trade  Papers  (in  the  Public  Record  Office),  Journal  A, 

pp.  1-6. 


352 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XTri. 


of  the  work  of  the  new  council.  Locke’s  working  col- 
leagues, with  a salary  of  1000k  apiece,  were  the  Earl  of 
Bridgewater,  the  Earl  of  Tankerville,  known  to  us  of  old 
as  the  disreputable  Eord,  Lord  Grey  of  Wark,  Sir  Philip 
Meadows,  William  Brathwayte,  John  Pollexfen,  Abraham 
Hill,  John  Methuen,  and,  after  some  time,  George  Step- 
ney. 1 The  secretary  to  the  commission,  appointed  on 
the  first  day  of  meeting,2  was  William  Popple,  the  trans- 
lator of  Locke’s  ‘ Epistola  de  Tolerautia,’  and  his  friend 
during  the  past  six  or  seven  years.3  One  of  the  clerks 
employed  in  the  office,  at  a salary  of  80k  a year,  was 

1 Board  of  Trade  Papers  (in  the  Public  Record  Office),  Journal  A, 

pp.  1—6. 

2 Ibid,,  p.  7. 

3 Popple,  born  in  1638,  and  a nephew  of  Andrew  Marvel,  was  the  author 
of  a ‘ Rational  Catechism,’  which  was  published  in  1687,  and  of  various  plays 
and  poems,  which  are  still  in  manuscript.  ( Additional  MSS.,  in  the  British 
Museum,  no.  8888.)  After  many  years’  residence  in  London  he  estab- 
lished himself  as  a merchant  at  Bordeaux  in  1676.  He  returned  to  England 
about  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  and  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Thomas 
Firmin  and  other  Unitarians,  his  daughter  marrying  Maurice  Ashley,  the 
third  Lord  Shaftesbury’s  brother.  That  he  did  not  prosper  greatly  in  busi- 
ness may  be  inferred  from  his  taking  the  secretaryship  of  the  council  of  trade. 
In  that  post,  however,  he  acquitted  himself  admirably,  and  if,  as  is  probable, 
he  obtained  it  through  Locke’s  influence,  the  influence  was  well  used.  He 
appears  to  have  been  Locke’s  chief  assistant  and  agent  in  bringing  the  work 
of  the  council  into  good  order  and  in  rendering  it  possible  for  the  immense 
amount  of  good  work  done  during  its  first  few  years  to  be  effected.  Most 
of  the  information  contained  in  the  following  pages  is  derived  from  Popple’s 
minutes  and  the  papers  doequeted  and  classified  by  him.  All  his  work  was 
done  with  wonderful  neatness  and.  apparently,  with  wonderful  accuracy.  I 
shall  generally  refer  only  to  Popple’s  journal  of  the  proceedings  of  the  com- 
mission, leaving  any  who  care  to  inquire  into  the  subject  to  follow  his  own 
explicit  references  therein  to  the  profuse  collection  of  letters,  books,  and 
bundles  of  papers  left  by  him,  and  now  in  the  Public  Record  Office,  so  far  as 
they  have  been  preserved. 


it963.]  WORK  AS  COMMISSIONER  OF  TRADE.  353 

Sylvanus  Brownover,  wlio  had  been  “ Mr.  Locke’s  boy  ” 
five-and-twenty  years  before,  who  had  resided  and 
travelled  with  him  ever  since,  both  in  England  and 
Holland,  as  a sort  of  confidential  servant  or  secretary,  a 
fair  artist  in  his  way,  and  an  excellent  amanuensis.  His 
employment  now  in  the  council  office  was  doubtless 
in  order  that  when  Locke  was  at  Oates  or  absent  else- 
where there  might  be  readier  communication  with  him. 

During  the  four  years  and  a little  more  that  comprised 
Locke’s  work  as  a commissioner  of  trade  and  plantations, 
his  health  only  suffered  him  to  be  at  his  post  during  the 
summer  months,  but  whenever  he  could  be  in  London  he 
was  in  constant  attendance.1  The  other  commissioners 
attended  occasionally,  two  or  three  of  them  very  fre- 
quently, so  that  the  quorum  of  three  was  always  made 
up.  But  Locke  was  the  only  one  who  appears  to  have 
devoted  himself  very  heartily  to  the  business  ; and  he 
was  in  every  way  its  chief  director  and  controller.  His 
experience  fitted  him  for  this ; his  wisdom  and  integrity 
yet  more.  All  the  more  important  undertakings  of  the 
council  were  begun  when  he  was  present,  and  continued 
under  his  guidance.  All  its  more  important  decisions 
were  written,  dictated,  or  inspired  by  him.  When  he 
was  in  London,  it  was  always  hard  at  work.  When  he 
was  at  Oates,  though  he  was  informed  of  every  measure 
of  importance,  and  frequently  sent  up  long  minutes  for 

1 His  attendances  may  be  here  summarised ; 1696,  25  June — 13  Novem- 
ber (absent  three  days);  1696-7,  13 — 17  February;  1697,  21  June — 22 
November ; 1698, 11  July — 20  October  (absent  two  days) ; 1699,  6 June — 
20  November  (absent  two  days) ; 1700, 17  May — 28  June,  when  he  resigned. 
The  council  began  by  meeting  three  times  a week ; but  soon  afterwards  be 
met  every  day  but  Saturday  and  Sunday,  with  occasional  intermissions  of 
a few  days,  especially  during  the  winter.  When  there  was  great  pressure 
of  business,  it  met  in  the  evening  as  well  as  in  the  day  time. 

Vol.  II. — 23 


354 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


its  use,  its  work  slackened  in  quantity,  and  yet  more  in 
quality.  He  was  altogether  its  presiding  genius,  and  by 
his  energy  and  talent  it  was  enabled  and  induced  to  do 
more — and  more  useful — work,  during  the  first  four  years 
of  its  existence,  than  any  one  who  has  not  studied  its  pro- 
ceedings and  traced  their  connection  with  all  the  com- 
mercial and  social  affairs  of  England  at  this  time  and 
afterwards  can  at  all  adequately  appreciate. 

To  set  forth  the  details  of  that  work  would  require 
more  than  one  stout  volume.  The  extracts  that  have 
been  made  from  King  William’s  patent,  comprehensive 
as  are  the  duties  there  prescribed,  but  feebly  indicate  its 
extent,  variety,  and  ramifications.  Only  a few  illustra- 
tions can  here  be  given,  and  only  a few  topics  of  special 
importance  with  which  Locke  was  specially  concerned 
can  be  more  than  touched  upon. 

The  first  meeting  of  the  council  was  held  in  the  cham- 
bers assigned  to  it  in  Whitehall,  on  the  25th  of  June. 
That  day  and  the  three  following  were  spent  in  deciding 
upon  the  plan  of  procedure  and  the  times  of  meeting,  in 
appointing  a secretary  and  clerks,  in  giving  instructions 
to  Christopher  Wren  about  the  fitting  up  of  the  offices, 
and  to  Awnsham  Churchill  and  Jacob  Tonson  about  the 
supply  of  stationery,  and  in  arranging  other  prelim- 
inaries.1 

After  that  they  at  once  set  to  work.  As  it  would  take 
a longer  time  to  receive  information  from  the  colonies 
than  from  places  nearer  home,  they  began  by  taking  a 
general  view  of  the  state  of  the  English  possessions  in 
America  and  the  West  Indies,  and  in  setting  matters  in 
train  for  obtaining  full  and  new  details  from  them  and 
about  them.  They  next  sent  out  circulars  to  clergymen  and 
1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  A,  pp.  7,  8. 


it963.]  WORK  AS  COMMISSIONER  OF  TRADE.  355 

others  in  nearly  every  parish  in  the  kingdom,  asking  for 
particulars  concerning  the  number  of  paupers  therein,  the 
modes  in  which  they  were  relieved  and  employed,  the 
amounts  of  local  poor-rates,  and  so  forth.  They  spent 
one  day  in  discussing  the  state  of  the  linen  and  paper 
manufactures,  and  instructed  the  secretary  to  collect 
further  information.  On  another  day  they  considered 
a draft  bill,  intended  for  the  house  of  commons,  for  in- 
creasing the  woollen  trade  in  England,  and  preventing 
the  exportation  of  wool.  Thus,  and  in  a variety  of  other 
work,  the  month  of  July  was  occupied.1 

In  August  they  examined  and  cross-examined  Gilbert 
Heathcote,  one  of  the  leading  merchants  of  London 
and  a friend  of  Locke’s,  and  several  other  merchants 
trading  with  Sweden  and  the  Baltic,  about  the  condition 
of  English  commerce  with  those  parts  ; and  made  similar 
inquiries  from  Paul  Daranda  and  other  merchants  about 
trade  with  Holland,  and  the  value  of  a consulate  at 
Botterdam,  as  a result  of  which  “ Mr.  Locke  was  desired 
to  draw  up  a scheme  of  some  method  of  determining 
differences  between  merchants  by  referees  that  might  be 
decisive  without  appeal.”  On  one  day  they  took  evidence 
from  Locke’s  very  old  friend,  Thomas  Eirmin,  about 
linen  manufacture,  and  a great  workhouse  that  he  had 
established  in  Little  Britain  more  than  twenty  years 
before,  in  which  some  sixteen  or  seventeen  hundred 
persons  whom  he  had  reclaimed  from  beggary  were  con- 
stantly employed ; discussed  his  recommendation  of  the 
compulsory  employment  of  paupers  in  such  ways  as  this, 
or,  at  any  rate,  that  no  one  should  be  allowed  to  take 
alms  unless  he  wore  a pauper’s  badge  and  confined  his 
begging  to  his  own  parish  ; and  inspected  a model  that 
1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  A,  pp.  8 — 30. 


356 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


lie  produced  of  a spinning-wheel  invented  by  him,  and 
which  would  make  it  easy  for  a girl  ten  years  old  to  spin 
eight  hundred  yards  of  flax  for  a penny,  and  to  earn  ten- 
pence  a day.  They  considered,  at  another  time,  some 
papers  about  the  procuring  of  naval  stores  from  New 
England,  which  Lowndes,  the  secretary  to  the  treasury, 
had  sent  to  Locke  ; and  several  days  were  occupied  in 
taking  evidence  and  examining  statistics  about  Jamaica 
and  the  other  West  Indian  settlements,  New  York, 
Maryland,  and  Virginia.1 

Colonial  affairs  continued  to  engross  most  of  their, 
attention  during  September,  one  day  being  devoted  to 
the  consideration  of  a proposal  that  in  the  plantations  it 
should  be  compulsory  to  clothe  all  servants  and  slaves 
and  to  bury  persons  of  every  class  in  linsey-woolsey 
instead  of  wool,  and  to  adopt  other  steps  for  discouraging 
the  exportation  of  that  fabric.  The  state  of  Jamaica 
and  the  troubles  caused  by  the  buccaneers  received  par- 
ticular attention  both  in  September  and  in  October,  though 
questions  nearer  home  occupied  a good  deal  of  time  in  the 
latter  month.  The  chief  part  of  one  day  was  passed  in 
inquring  into  the  feud  between  the  white  paper  makers 
and  the  brown  paper  makers  ; and  the  chief  part  of  an- 
other in  listening  to  the  grievances  of  the  lustring  com- 
pany. At  one  meeting  “ Mr.  Locke  communicated  copies 
of  two  letters  writ  from  Falmouth  by  Mr.  Robert  Corber 
to  Mr.  Hillary  Renn,  importing  that  the  undertaking  for 
setting  up  a woollen  manufacture  in  Spain,  though  en- 
couraged by  the  king,  is  not  like  to  succeed,  but,  however, 
ought  not  to  be  slighted;”  and  that  led,  of  course,  to  full 
investigation  of  the  prospects  of  the  Spanish  woollen  trade.2 

] Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  A,  pp.  31 — 80. 

2 Ibid.,  Journal  A,  pp.  80 — 192. 


ifei.]  WORK  AS  COMMISSIONER  OF  TRADE.  357 

In  November,  “ Mr.  Mitford  and  Mr.  Bloom,  Eastland 
merchants,  delivered  to  the  board  a proposal  for  the  better 
establishing  a credit  by  paper,  being,  in  substance,  to 
desire  that  merchants  and  tradesmen  may  be  obliged  to 
give  bills  for  the  payment  of  goods  bought,  and  those 
bills,  upon  protest,  and  after  certain  days  of  grace,  to  be 
of  the  same  force  in  law  as  bonds,  and  to  bear  interest 
till  fully  satisfied.  Being  asked  if  they  had  any  objection 
against  making  both  those  bills  and  bonds  transferable, 
they  answered  no,  but  that  they  thought  it  very  desirable 
it  should  be  so.  The  hoard,  thereupon,  approving  their 
proposal,  advised  them,  as  the  best  way  to  make  it  take 
effect,  to  get  a petition  drawn  clear  and  full,  and  to  apply 
themselves  to  the  parliament.”  A week  before  that,  “ Mr. 
Locke  delivered  to  the  board  a letter  from  Sir  Bobert 
Clayton  to  himself,  giving  an  account  of  a-la-modes  made 
by  the  lustring  company  and  others  made  in  France, 
wherein  those  of  the  company  were  judged  better  than  the 
other,  some  twelvepence,  some  sixpence  per  ell.”  On 
another  day,  with  reference  to  the  special  task  assigned 
to  him  three  months  before,  “ Mr.  Locke  acquainted  the 
board  that,  in  order  to  draw  up  a scheme  of  some  method 
for  determining  differences  between  merchants  by  referees, 
he  had  inquired  into  the  methods  practised  in  Holland 
for  that  purpose,  but  found  them  too  intricate  and  too 
different  from  our  methods  to  be  put  in  practice  here  ; 
whereupon  he  had  consulted  with  others  experienced  in 
our  laws,  who  had  drawn  up  a draft  of  an  act  of  parliament 
for  that  purpose,  which  he  delivered  unto  the  board.”  1 A 
few  days  after  doing  that,  Locke  had  to  go  down  to  Oates 
for  the  winter.  His  draft  bill  was  considered  in  his 
absence,  and  a statement  of  certain  alterations  suggested 
1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  A,  pp.  200 — 229. 


358 


IN  THE  SEKVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


in  it  by  Bratbwayte  was  sent  down  to  him.  These  he 
returned  in  due  time  with  his  own  corrections,  and  those 
corrections  being  adopted  by  the  other  commissioners,  a 
fair  copy  of  the  document  was  forwarded  to  King  William 
for  his  approval,1  and  in  due  time  became  law.2 

The  proceedings  of  the  commissioners  during  Locke’s 
absence,  or  in  the  succeeding  summers,  when  he  was 
present,  need  not  be  followed,  even  with  such  a meagre 
selection  of  specimens  of  the  work  done  and  attempted 
as  has  just  been  given  for  the  first  five  months  of  their 
employment.  Those  specimens  will  serve  to  show  how 
busy  at  this  time,  chiefly  though  not  exclusively  in  the 
collection  of  evidence  on  all  sorts  of  subjects,  Locke  and 
his  colleagues  were,  and  especially  what  kinds  of  business 
he  himself  gave  most  attention  to.  If  he  was  unwilling 
to  tax  his  strength  by  devoting  himself  to  the  duties  of 
the  commission,  he  was  certainly  energetic  enough  in 
performing  them. 

He  began  his  new  work  bravely,  though  not  very  cheer- 
fully, and  with  a knowledge  that  only  prudence  could  help 
him  through  it.  “I  have,  I thank  God,  now  as  much 
health  as  my  constitution  will  allow  me  to  expect,”  he 
wrote  to  Molyneux,  after  he  had  been  five  weeks  in 
harness.  “ But  yet,  if  I will  think  like  a reasonable  man, 
the  flattery  of  my  summer  vigour  ought  not  to  make  me 
count  beyond  the  next  winter  at  any  time  for  the  future. 
The  last  sat  so  heavy  upon  me,  that  it  was  with  difficulty 
I got  through  it.”  Molyneux  had  congratulated  him  on 
his  appointment.  “Your  congratulation,”  he  replied,  “ I 
take  as  you  meant,  kindly  and  seriously,  and,  it  may  be, 
it  is  what  another  would  rejoice  in  ; but  ’tis  a preferment 

] Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  A,  pp.  233,  288,  354,  358. 

2 9th  of  William  III.,  cap.  xv. 


it964.]  WORK  AS  COMMISSIONER  OF  TRADE.  359 

I shall  get  nothing  by,  and  I know  not  whether  my 
country  will,  though  that  I shall  aim  at  with  all  my 
endeavours.  Biclies  may  be  instrumental  to  so  many 
good  purposes,  that  it  is,  I think,  vanity  rather  than  reli- 
gion or  philosophy  to  pretend  to  contemn  them.  But 
yet  they  may  be  purchased  too  dear.  My  ago  and  health 
demand  a retreat  from  hustle  and  business,  and  the  pursuit 
of  some  inquiries  I have  in  my  thoughts  makes  it  more 
desirable  than  any  of  those  rewards  which  public  employ- 
ments tempt  people  with.  I think  the  little  I have 
enough,  and  do  not  desire  to  live  higher  or  die  richer  than 
I am.  And  therefore  you  have  reason  rather  to  pity  the 
folly,  than  congratulate  the  fortune,  that  engages  me  in 
the  whirlpool.”  1 

He  found  it  indeed  a whirlpool,  and  when,  on  going 
down  to  Oates,  he  saw  that  he  could  not  escape  from  it 
even  there,  that,  while  his  friends  were  in  serious  alarm 
as  to  his  health,  and  he  was  sorely  in  need  of  rest,  the 
business  followed  him,  and  the  time  when  he  ought  to  he 
in  bed  was  occupied  in  writing  letters  and  doing  other 
work  connected  with  his  office,  yet  more  when  he  learnt 
that  his  colleagues  were  complaining  of  his  absence,  he 
resolved  to  resign  the  commissionership.  Thereupon  he 
wrote  a very  characteristic  letter  to  Lord  Keeper  Somers. 
“ Some  of  my  brethren,”  he  here  said,  “ think  my  stay  in 
the  country  long,  and  desire  me  to  return  to  bear  my  part, 
and  to  help  to  despatch  the  multitude  of  business  that 
the  present  circumstances  of  trade  and  the  plantations 
fill  their  hands  with.  I cannot  hut  say  they  are  in  the 
right ; and  I cannot  hut  think,  at  the  same  time,  that  I 
also  am  in  the  right  to  stay  in  the  country,  where  all  my 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  153 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  4 August, 
1696. 


360 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


T Chap.  XIH. 


care  is  little  enough  to  preserve  those  small  remains  of 
health  which  a settled  and  incurable  indisposition  would 
quickly  make  an  end  of  anywhere  else.  There  remains, 
therefore,  nothing  else  to  be  done  but  that  I should  cease 
to  fill  up  any  longer  a place  that  requires  a more  constant 
attendance  than  my  strength  will  allow ; and  to  that 
purpose  I prevail  with  your  lordship  to  move  his  majesty 
that  he  would  he  pleased  to  ease  me  of  the  employment 
he  has  been  pleased  to  honour  me  with,  since  the  crazi- 
ness of  my  body  so  ill  seconds  the  inclination  I have  to 
serve  him  in  it,  and  I find  myself  every  way  incapable  of 
answering  the  ends  of  that  commission.  I am  not  insen- 
sible of  the  honour  of  the  employment,  nor  how  much  I 
am  obliged  to  your  favourable  opinion  in  putting  me  into 
a post  which  I look  upon  as  one  of  the  most  considerable 
in  England.  I can  say  that  nobody  has  more  warm  wishes 
for  the  prosperity  of  his  country  than  I have ; but  the 
opportunity  of  showing  those  good  wishes  in  being  any 
way  serviceable  to  it  I find  comes  too  late  to  a man  whose 
health  is  inconsistent  with  the  business,  and  in  whom  it 
would  be  folly  to  hope  for  a return  to  that  vigour  and 
strength  which  such  an  employment  I see  requires.  It  is 
not  without  due  consideration  that  I represent  this  to 
your  lordship,  and  that  I find  myself  obliged  humbly  and 
earnestly  to  request  you  to  obtain  for  me  a dismission  out 
of  it.”1 

Somers  refused  to  hear  of  Locke’s  resignation,  at  any 
rate  just  then.  “ I am  very  sorry,”  he  replied,  “ for  your 
ill  health,  which  confines  you  to  the  country  for  the  pre- 
sent ; but  now  you  will  have  so  much  regard  to  yourself, 
your  friends,  and  your  country  as  not  to  think  of  returning 
to  business  till  you  are  recovered  to  such  a competent 
1 Lord  King,  p.  244  ; Locke  to  Somers,  7 Jan.,  1696-7. 


PROPOSED  RESIGNATION  OF  THE  COMMISSIONERSHIP.  361 

degree  as  not  to  run  the  hazard  of  a relapse.  As  to  the 
other  part  of  your  letter,  which  relates  to  the  quitting  the 
commission,  I must  say  you  are  much  in  the  wrong,  in 
my  opinion,  to  entertain  a thought  of  it ; and  I flatter 
myself  so  far  as  to  believe  I could  bring  you  over  to  my 
sentiments,  if  I had  the  happiness  of  half  an  hour’s  con- 
versation with  you.  These  being  my  thoughts,  you 
cannot  wonder  if  I am  not  willing  to  enter  upon  the 
commission  you  gave  me,  of  saying  something  to  the 
king  of  your  purpose.  But  when  the  new  commission  is 
made,  and  the  establishment  fixed,  and  the  parliament 
up,  and  you  have  had  the  opinion  of  your  friends  here,  I 
will  submit  to  act  as  you  shall  command  me.”1  Locke 
answered  that  letter  by  another,  again  urging  the  pro- 
priety of  his  retirement,  and  assuring  Somers  that  the 
“half  an  hour’s  conversation”  would  lead  him  to  see 
that  he  would  do  well  “to  substitute  a man  in  the  place 
of  a shadow.” 2 

But  he  went  up  to  London  for  a week  in  February,3 
and  the  result  of  that  journey,  and  the  interview  for 
which  it  was  taken,  was  that  he  continued  his  post  of 
commissioner  of  trade  during  three  and  a half  years 
longer.  He  withdrew  his  resignation  unwillingly,  how- 
ever, and  seems  still  to  have  been  anxious  to  retire  as 
soon  as  Somers  and  the  king  would  let  him.  “ The 
corruption  of  the  age,”  he  wrote  to  Molyneux,  two  or 
three  days  after  returning  to  Oates  in  February,  “gives 
me  so  ill  a prospect  of  any  success  in  designs  of  this  kind 
that  I am  not  sorry  my  ill  health  gives  me  so  just  a 

1 Lord  King,  p.  245  ; Somers  to  Locke,  26  Jan.,  1696-7. 

s Ibid.,  p.  245;  Locke  to  Somers,  1 Feb.,  1696-7. 

3 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  A,  p.  404. 


362 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


reason  to  desire  to  be  eased  of  the  employment  I am 
in.”1 

He  did  not  fairly  resume  work  till  the  end  of  June. 
He  then  returned  to  London,  prepared  to  devote  himself 
as  zealously  as  before  to  the  multifarious  business  of  the 
council,  and  at  once  to  take  a very  prominent  part  in  one 
important  branch  of  it.  Shortly  before  the  appointment 
of  the  commission  of  trade,  an  act  of  parliament  had 
been  passed  which  was  designed  to  encourage  the  cultiva- 
tion of  hemp  and  flax  in  Ireland  by  permitting  the  impor- 
tation thence  into  England,  without  duty,  both  of  the 
raw  material  and  of  goods  made  from  it,2  an  arrangement 
which,  it  was  reasonably  thought,  would  induce  many 
foreign  protestants,  skilled  in  linen  manufacture,  to  settle 
in  Ulster.  This  movement  and  its  issues  had  been  often 
discussed  by  the  commissioners  in  the  first  year  of  their 
employment,  and  Locke,  taking  special  interest  in  it,  had 
sought  information  on  the  subject  from  Molyneux,  who, 
besides  being  a student  of  science  and  philosophy,  was  a 
zealous  politician,  representing  Dublin  university  in  the 
Irish  parliament,  and  an  active  promoter  of  the  industrial 
welfare  of  his  country.3  He  had  also  collected  information 
of  the  same  sort  from  other  sources ; and  almost  imme- 
diately after  his  return  to  London  he  brought  the  matter 
before  the  board.  Much  time  was  spent,  chiefly  in  July 
and  August,  1696,  in  discussing  it,  and  it  was  at  last 
agreed  that  each  commissioner  should  draw  up  a scheme 
for  improving  Irish  trade.4  On  the  24th  of  August  three 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  177  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  22  Feb.,  169G-7. 

2 7 and  8 William  III.,  cap.  39  (1695-6). 

3 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  pp.  161,  164  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  12  Sept., 
1696  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  26  Sept.,  1696. 

4 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  B,  pp.  164,  168,  176,  201 — 214,  224 — 1 
226. 


JEt.^65.]  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  IRISH  LINEN  MANUFACTURE.  363 


such,  schemes  were  produced  and  read.  “ That  brought 
in  by  Mr.  Locke  was  pitched  upon,”  it  is  recorded  in  the 
minutes  of  the  board.  Two  whole  days  were  spent  in 
considering  this  document,  paragraph  by  paragraph,  there 
being  an  evening  sitting  on  the  second  day  to  complete 
the  work.  Only  a few  unimportant  alterations  were 
made,  however,  and  the  following  report  to  the  lords 
justices,  finally  agreed  upon  on  the  30th  of  August, 
signed  on  the  next  day,  and  sent  on  on  the  2nd  of  Sep- 
tember, was  substantially  altogether  Locke’s  work.1  It 
is  hardly  necessary  to  point  out  the  economical  fallacies 
of  the  protective  policy  as  regards  the  English  woollen 
manufacture,  which  Locke  adopted  as  a matter  of  course, 
or  as  regards  the  Irish  linen  manufacture,  in  which  he 
proposed  to  introduce  new  and  very  curious  institutions  ; 
but  whatever  errors  in  principle  he  may  have  fallen  into, 
the  remarkable  shrewdness  with  which  he  worked  out  his 
details  and  the  generous  patriotism,  according  to  his 
lights,  pervading  the  whole  document  must  not  be  lost 
sight  of. 

“ May  it  please  your  Excellencies, — In  obedience  to  bis  majesty’s 
commands,  signified  to  us  by  Mr.  Secretary  Trumbull,  that  we  should  take 
into  consideration  the  trade  of  England  and  Ireland,  how  they  stand  in 
relation  to  one  another,  and  how  they  may  be  improved  to  the  advantage 
of  both  Dations,  we  humbly  represent  to  your  excellencies  that  the  woollen 
manufacture  of  Ireland  cannot  be  carried  on  and  continued  to  be  improved 
there  at  the  rate  it  hath  been  of  late  years  without  very  ill  consequence  to 
this  kingdom.  The  care  of  our  parliament  in  all  times  in  preserving  this 
manufacture  entirely  to  England,  and  the  sensible  damage  we  have  suffered 


1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  B,  pp.  224 — 226,  232.  I have  not 
been  able  to  find  Locke’s  original  draft  among  the  Board  of  Trade  Papers. 
It  was,  probably,  after  the  corrections  had  been  made  upon  it,  handed  to  the 
clerk  who  made  the  fair  copy,  from  which  the  following  is  printed,  and 
then  thrown  aside  as  waste  paper. 


364 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Ciiap.  Xnl. 


■when  any  part  of  it  hath  been  lost  from  us  to  any  other  country,  makes 
this  so  evident  that  we  think  we  need  use  no  other  reasons  to  show  of  what 
necessity  it  is  not  to  let  in  any  new  sharers. 

“ To  hinder,  therefore,  the  growth  of  the  woollen  manufacture  in  Ireland, 
so  wholly  incompatible  with  the  fundamental  trade  of  England,  on  which 
the  prosperity  of  this  nation  so  much  depends,  we  are  humbly  of  opinion 
that  the  exportation  of  all  sorts  of  woollen  manufactures  out  of  Ireland  to 
any  parts  whatsoever  (except  only  that  of  their  frieze,  as  is  wont,  to 
England)  be  restrained  and  discouraged  with  impositions,  penalties  and  all 
other  ways  which  together  may  be  sufficient  to  hinder  it. 

“ But  since  the  private  exportation  of  wool  in  England,  acknowledged  by 
everybody  to  be  directly  against  the  interest  of  this  kingdom,  is  too  public 
an  instance  how  little  bare  prohibitions  of  exportation,  though  under  the 
severest  penalties,  are  to  be  depended  upon  where  the  temptation  of  great 
profit  may  encourage  private  men  to  bribe  officers  and  run  other  risks,  it  is 
much  less  to  be  expected  that  the  bare  stopping  of  the  exportation  of  woollen 
manufactures,  when  made  by  a guard  only  at  the  ports,  will  be  sufficient  to 
keep  them  from  being  sent  out  of  Ireland,  where  not  only  the  gain  of  private 
exporters,  but  the  general  sense  of  the  people  that  it  is  the  interest  of  the 
country  to  export  them,  concur  to  break  through  all  obstacles  of  this  kind. 

“ We,  therefore,  crave  leave  humbly  to  offer  to  your  excellencies’  con- 
sideration, whether  it  will  not  be  convenient  to  add  the  following  remedies 
as  a more  natural  and  effectual  way  to  take  off  the  people  there  from  their 
application  to  that  sort  of  trade,  so  that  the  cheapness  of  victuals  and, 
consequently,  of  labour  may  not  enable  them  to  transport  the  woollen  manu- 
factures to  foreign  markets  to  the  prejudice  of  our  English  trade — 

“ That  a sufficient  duty  be  laid  upon  the  importation  of  oil,  upon  teasles 
whether  imported  or  growing  there,  and  upon  all  the  utensils  employed  in 
the  making  of  woollen  manufactures,  such  as  cards  for  wool  of  all  sorts, 
fulling  mills,  racks,  presses,  etc.,  as  also  upon  the  utensils  of  woollen 
combers,  and  particularly  a duty  by  the  yard  upon  all  cloth  and  woollen 
stuffs  (except  friezes)  before  they  are  taken  off  the  loom. 

“ But  because  we  can  by  no  means  think  it  advisable  that  men  should  be 
all  on  a sudden  stopped  in  their  way  of  livelihood  till  other  ways  of  employ- 
ment be  opened  to  them,  since  such  changes  cannot  possibly  be  effected  ail 
at  once,  but  must  be  introduced  by  degrees,  we  are  humbly  of  opinion  that, 
though  it  be  requisite  that  the  remedies  above  propounded  be  enacted  all  at 
once,  yet  that  they  should  not  all  or  any  of  them  be  in  force  and  put  iu 
execution  but  only  by  such  degrees  and  in  such  proportions  as  by  procla- 


^t.°65.]  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  IRISH  LINEN  MANUFACTURE.  365 


mation  from  the  lord  lieutenant  or  lords  justices,  by  advice  of  the  privy 
council  there,  shall  from  time  to  time  be  directed  and  required,  so  that  the 
gradual  increase  of  these  duties  may  warn  and  give  people  time  to  turn 
themselves  to  some  other  employments,  provided  that,  whatever  part  of  the 
said  act  shall  by  such  proclamation  be  once  put  in  force,  the  same  shall  remain 
so  and  stand  good,  and  whatever  proportion  of  the  said  duties  shall  in  this 
manner  be  required  it  shall  no  more  be  diminished,  but  may  at  any  time,  if 
it  be  found  requisite,  in  the  same  manner  be  augmented,  so  far  as  the  said 
act  allows. 

“ Nevertheless,  that  the  owners  of  wool  may  he  hindered  in  the  vent 
thereof  by  the  diverting  of  labouring  hands  to  other  manufactures,  we 
humbly  offer  that  unwrought  wool  have  free  exportation  from  Ireland  into 
England,  without  any  duty  from  and  to  the  ports  now  appointed  by  act  of 
parliament,  but  that  the  exportation  of  it  any  whither  else  be  effectually 
Lindered  by  all  ways  and  means  possible  to  he  used. 

“And  since  it  generally  proves  ineffectual,  and  we  conceive  it  hard  to 
endeavour,  to  drive  men  from  the  trade  they  are  employed  in  by  bare  pro- 
hibition, without  offering  them  at  the  same  time  some  other  trade  which,  if 
they  please,  may  turn  to  account,  we  humbly  propose  that  the  linen  manu- 
facture be  set  on  foot  and  so  encouraged  in  Ireland  as  may  make  it  the 
general  trade  of  that  country  as  effectually  as  the  woollen  manufacture  is  and 
must  be  of  England.  To  which  purpose  we  humbly  conceive  it  of  great 
importance  that  it  be  intimated  and  insinuated  from  hence  to  all  such  persons 
there,  and  in  such  ways  and  manner  as  shall  be  thought  most  convenient, 
that  they  seriously  bethink  themselves  of  setting  up  and  carrying  on  the 
linen  manufactures  in  that  country,  it  being  not  to  be  supposed  that  England 
either  can  or  ever  will  suffer  that  the  wcollen  manufacture  should  grow  up  in 
Ireland  so  as  to  come  any  way  in  competition  with,  or  so  much  as  threaten, 
that  trade  so  necessary  to  the  subsistence  of  England. 

“ For  the  encouragement,  therefore,  and  setting  up  of  the  linen  manufac- 
ture in  Ireland,  we  humbly  propose — 

“ That  the  proportion 1 of  hemp  seed  and  linseed  into  Ireland  be  free 
from  all  duties  for  three  years  or  longer,  if  the  directors,  whose  office  and 
employment  is  hereafter  to  be  explained,  shall  think  it  requisite. 

“ That  flax  and  hemp  growing  in  Ireland  shall  be  tithe  and  tax  free  for 
twenty-one  years,  and  after  twenty-one  years  shall  pay  for  tithes  only  two 
shillings  and  sixpence  per  annum. 


1 Importation  ? 


366 


IN  THE  SEEYICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


‘ That  the  present  customs  and  other  duties  on  hemp,  flax  and  all  manu- 
factures made  thereof,  imported  into  Ireland,  be  increased  one-fourth  part 
every  year,  till  they  come  to  be  quadrupled  to  what  they  are  at  present, 
and  that  the  like  graduate  increase  of  duties  be  laid  on  calicoes  and  all 
other  sorts  of  cloth  made  of  cotton  that  may  supply  the  place  and  use  of 
linen. 

“That  the  exportation  of  linen  cloth  and  all  other  manufactures  made  of 
flax  or  hemp,  without  any  mixture  of  wool,  shall  be  free  to  all  places  and 
without  any  custom. 

“ That  all  dressers  of  hemp  or  flax,  linen  weavers,  rope-makers,  and  all 
other  workers  in  hemp  or  flax,  and  using  no  other  trades,  shall  be  free, 
during  the  time  that  they  follow  those  vocations,  from  serving  of  juries 
or  bearing  any  offices  which  they  themselves  shall  not  be  willing  to 
undergo. 

“ And,  because  the  poorest  earning  in  the  several  parts  of  the  linen  manu- 
facture is  at  present  in  the  work  of  the  spinners,  who  therefore  need  the 
greatest  encouragement,  and  ought  to  be  increased  as  much  as  possible,  that 
therefore  spinning  schools  be  set  up  in  such  places  and  at  such  distances  as 
the  directors  shall  appoint,  where  whoever  will  come  to  learn  to  spin  shall 
be  taught  gratis,  and  to  which  all  persons  that  have  not  forty  shillings  a 
year  estate  shall  be  obliged  to  send  all  their  children,  both  male  and  female, 
that  they  have  at  home  with  them,  from  six  to  fourteen  years  of  age,  and 
may  have  liberty  to  send  those  also  between  four  and  six  if  they  please,  to 
he  employed  there  in  spinning  ten  hours  in  the  day  when  the  days  are  so 
long,  or  as  long  as  it  is  light  when  they  are  shorter ; provided  always  that 
no  child  shall  be  obliged  to  go  above  two  miles  to  any  such  school. 

“ That  all  children  who  are  thus  obliged  to  come  to  these  schools  shall  be 
paid  for  what  they  earn  there  in  spinning,  according  to  the  ordinary  rate 
paid  to  others,  first  deducting  from  each  of  them  what  they  have  spoilt  in 
tow  or  flax  in  their  beginning  to  learn. 

“ That  all  in  general  who  come  there  to  learn  shall  have  wheels  provided 
for  them,  and  that  they  who  are  able  to  spin  in  Mr.  Firmin’s  double  wheel 
shall,  at  their  going  away,  have  one  of  those  wheels  given  them. 

“ That  no  wheel  shall  be  used  in  any  of  those  spinning  schools  but  what 
shall  he  turned  with  the  foot  and  have  the  distaff  placed  in  the  middle,  so 
that,  both  the  hands  being  at  liberty,  sometimes  the  one,  sometimes  the 
other,  may  he  used  to  draw  the  flax,  the  only  way  to  fit  them  for  the  double 
wheel,  which  they  can  never  use  unless  each  hand  can  draw  the  flax  with  an 
equal  facility. 


it9766.]  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  IRISH  LINEN  MANUFACTURE.  367 


“ The  use  of  this  double  wheel  is  of  that  great  consequence  to  the  linen 
manufacture  that  nothing  can  contribute  more  to  the  advancement  of  it  than 
the  bringing  this  wheel  in  fashion,  they  that  can  use  it  being  enabled  thereby 
to  earn  very  near  double  with  the  same  labour,  and  it  deserving  therefore 
by  all  ways  possible  to  be  encouraged.  In  order  thereto  we  humbly  propose — 

“ That  the  husbands  of  such  wives  as  can  spin  upon  the  double  wheel, 
and  do  follow  that  employment,  either  in  teaching  or  working,  shall  have 
all  the  same  immunities  and  privileges  that  are  hereafter  proposed  to  he 
granted  to  linen  weavers  and  other  workers  in  hemp  or  flax,  though  their 
said  husbands  are  of  other  trades  and  employments. 

“ That  at  every  summer  assizes  it  may  be  lawful  for  any  female  inhabitant 
of  each  county  respectively  to  come  there  and  show  her  skill  in  spinning  on 
the  double  wheel,  and  that  she  that  shall  there  in  one  hour  spin  the  most  and 
best  thread,  to  be  judged  of  by  the  grand  jury,  shall  have  10Z.  paid  her  upon 
the  place  by  an  officer  to  he  appointed  thereto  by  the  directors,  and  moreover 
he  recorded  in  court  a mistress  spinner  and  thereof  have  a certificate  delivered 
to  her  in  parchment,  without  fees,  under  the  hands  of  the  judge,  the  sheriff, 
the  foreman  of  the  jury,  and  such  of  the  justices  of  the  peace  as  will  sign  it, 
which  shall  entitle  her  and  her  husband,  whenever  she  shall  be  married,  to  a 
freedom  in  any  city,  town,  borough,  or  corporation  in  Ireland,  to  set  up 
there  what  trade  he  or  she  shall  think  fit,  with  an  exemption  to  the  said 
husband  during  his  life  from  serving  on  all  juries  and  bearing  any  manner 
of  office  which  he  himself  shall  not  be  willing  to  undergo. 

“And,  to  the  end  that  no  person  by  reason  of  poverty  or  distance  from 
the  place  where  the  assizes  are  held  may  be  hindered  from  showing  her 
skill  upon  the  double  wheel  and  may  be  somewhat  considered  for  the  charge 
in  coming  and  bringing  her  wheel  and  flax,  every  one  that  comes  and  can 
spin  so  well  on  the  double  wheel  as  to  be  capable  of  a trial  to  be  a mistress 
spinner  shall  be  allowed  twopence  per  mile  from  the  place  of  her  habitation 
to  the  place  of  the  assizes,  to  be  paid  by  the  same  officer  to  be  appointed 
thereunto  by  the  directors  as  aforesaid. 

“ That  if  any  double-wheel  spinner,  during  her  following  that  way  of  living, 
shall  by  sickness  or  other  calamity  he  disabled  from  getting  a livelihood  by 
spinning  as  she  used  to  do,  and  be  thereby  reduced  to  the  public  relief,  she 
shall  have  double  the  allowance  that  any  other  person  in  her  circumstances 
hath  or  is  wont  to  have. 

“ That  it  shall  also  be  lawful  for  any  weaver  to  bring  any  piece  of  linen 
cloth  of  his  own  weaving  to  the  summer  assizes  of  the  county  whereof  he 
is  an  inhabitant,  as  a sample  of  his  workmanship,  and  that  the  foreman  of 


368 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


the  grand  jury,  together  with  some  person  skilled  in  linen  cloth  to  he  ap- 
pointed by  the  court  and  an  officer  appointed  thereto  by  the  directors  shall, 
upon  oath,  give  their  judgments  which  piece  of  cloth  amongst  all  that  are 
so  produced  is  best  and  most  workman-like  woven  ; whereupon  the  piece  of 
cloth  that  shall  be  thus  judged  best  woven  shall  be  cut  into  two  equal  pieces 
to  prevent  its  being  again  produced,  and  the  weaver  who  wove  it  shall  have 
10/.  paid  him  upon  the  place  by  the  aforesaid  officer,  shall  be  recorded  in 
the  same  a master  weaver,  and  shall  there  receive  a certificate  as  before 
expressed  in  the  case  of  a mistress  spinner,  which  shall  entitle  him  to  a 
freedom  in  any  city,  town,  borough  or  corporation  in  Ireland,  there  to  set 
up  and  practise  the  said  trade  of  linen  weaving,  with  an  exemption  from 
serving  on  juries  and  hearing  any  manner  of  office  that  he  is  not  willing 
to  undergo,  so  long  as  he  continues  the  said  trade. 

“ That  the  like  reward  and  privileges  in  each  county  he  also  granted 
to  him  who  shall  at  the  summer  assizes  produce  the  best  piece  of  sail-cloth 
made  the  same  year  within  the  same  county,  and  that  the  said  piece  of 
sail-cloth  he  thereupon  cut  in  two  equal  pieces  to  prevent  its  being  again 
produced. 

“ That  all  the  money  that  shall  be  so  paid  at  each  assizes  by  the  officers 
appointed  thereunto  by  the  directors  shall  be  set  down  in  a bill,  which 
shall  be  signed  by  a judge  of  the  assizes  and  the  sheriff,  to  vouch  that 
article  of  the  said  officer’s  account. 

“ Provided  always  that  none  of  the  foregoing  rewards  of  10/.  upon  any 
of  the  aforesaid  trials  be  allowed  to  any  person  more  than  once. 

“But,  because  no  such  public  manufacture  can,  at  its  first  settingup, 
subsist  on  itself  in  a new  place,  and  hold  up  against,  much  less  gain  upon, 
the  same  trade  already  settled  and  established  elsewhere,  therefore  for  the 
defraying  the  charge  of  bringing  into  Ireland  persons  skilled  in  the  sowing, 
dressing  or  any  ways  improving  of  hemp,  flax  or  any  manufactures  made 
thereof,  or  in  spinning  in  the  double  wheel,  together  with  the  several  other 
charges  in  schools,  bleacheries,  magazines,  and  rewards  before  or  hereafter 
mentioned,  with  others  also  that  may  be  necessary,  and  likewise  for  sus- 
taining the  losses  that  may  be  made  in  the  infancy  of  this  undertaking  by 
taking  of  any  parcels  of  linen  cloth  from  the  makers  at  such  reasonable  rates 
as  may  enable  them  to  live  by  their  trade,  we  humbly  further  propose — 

“ That  every  female  above  fourteen  years  old  (excepting  those  of  such 
families  as  by  reason  of  poverty  are  exempt  from  taxes)  shall  every  year 
deliver  unto  such  persons  as  shall  be  appointed  in  each  parish  twelve  lays 
of  good,  sound,  merchandable  and  unbleached  linen  yarn  or  thread,  each 


Jt6965.]  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  IRISH  LINEN  MANUFACTURE.  3G9 

lay  containing  in  length  two  hundred  yards,  and  the  whole  twelve  lays  not 
weighing  above  eight  ounces  avoirdupois,  or,  if  they  do,  then  for  each  ounce 
they  weigh  more  the  party  so  bringing  them  shall  deliver  two  ounces  of  the 
i,  like  merchandable  yam  or  thread,  over  and  above  the  twelve  lays  before 
mentioned. 

“ That  every  male  above  fourteen  years  of  age  (not  in  holy  orders)  shall 
1 every  year  deliver  as  aforesaid  one  pound  of  merchandable  raw  flax,  and 
one  pound  of  like  merchandable  hemp. 

“ But  all  parents  also  who  neglect  to  send  their  children  to  the  spinning 
I schools,  as  before  proposed,  shall  deliver  as  aforesaid  the  like  quantity  of 
twelve  lays  or  more  of  linen  yarn  or  thread  for  every  child,  male  and  female, 
not  sent  accordingly  to  the  said  schools. 

“ That,  in  order  to  this  collection  of  linen  yarn,  hemp  and  flax,  to  be 
yearly  made  in  each  county,  as  early  as  may  be  in  the  spring,  the  ministers 
and  churchwardens  in  each  parish  shall  every  year,  before  the  25th  day  of 
March,  make  and  sign  a true  and  perfect  list  of  all  persons  in  their  respec- 
tive parishes  liable  to  the  said  contributions  ; in  conformity  unto  which  list 
the  said  churchwardens  shall  forthwith  make  the  whole  collection  of  the  said 
contributions  of  thread,  hemp  and  flax,  within  their  said  respective  parishes, 

: and  deliver  it,  together  with  the  said  list,  to  the  linen  collector  who  is  to  be 
appointed  by  the  directors  for  that  purpose  when  he  demands  it. 

“ That  whosoever  shall  fail  to  deliver  to  the  churchwardens  upon  demand 
his  or  her  respective  contribution  of  linen  yarn,  flax,  or  hemp,  as  before 
proposed  shall  forfeit  one  shilling,  to  be  levied  by  distress,  which  distress  the 
churchwardens  shall  be  empowered  and  required  to  make  and  account  for  to 
the  said  linen  collector. 

“ That  all  the  linen  yarn  thus  collected  shall  be  bleached  the  same  summer 
and  afterwards  sold  or  made  into  cloth,  as  shall  be  thought  best  by  the 
directors. 

“That  all  the  flax  also  and  hemp  thus  collected  shall  be  either  sold  or 
further  manufactured  as  the  said  directors  shall  think  fit. 

“But,  lest  the  profit  arising  from  the  several  aforesaid  contributions 
should  not  be  sufficient  to  give  the  encouragement  and  bear  the  losses  and 
expenses  necessary  to  the  support  of  the  said  manufacture,  especially  in  the 
first  beginning  of  it,  we  are  humbly  of  opinion  that  it  may  be  requisite  a 
fund  should  be  raised  by  an  imposition  of  twopence  per  pound  upon  tobacco 
imported  into  Ireland,  which  imposition  so  laid  will  but  raise  the  duties  upon 
that  commodity  in  Ireland  to  an  equality  with  what  is  now  paid  upon  tobacco 
spent  in  England. 

Vol.  II. — 24 


370 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


“ That  what  money  is  raised  upon  the  said  duty  of  twopence  per  pound 
shall  be  monthly  paid  in  to  the  treasurer  of  the  said  linen  manufacture,  who 
is  to  be  appointed  by  the  directors,  and  to  whom  the  linen  collectors  of 
each  county  and  other  officers  concerned  in  any  receipts  or  payments,  by 
order  of  the  said  directors,  shall  be  accountable  from  time  to  time. 

“ That  the  said  treasurer  shall  once  every  year  give  in  a clear  account 
and  perfect  state  of  the  public  revenue  and  contributions  given  for  the 
carrying  on  of  the  said  linen  manufacture  unto  the  lord  lieutenant  or  lords 
justices  of  Ireland,  or  to  such  person  or  persons  as  shall  be  authorised  and 
appointed  by  them,  to  examine  and  audit  the  said  account  to  the  end  that, 
upon  the  stating  thereof,  so  much  as  shall  be  found  remaining  an  overplus, 
not  expended  or  lost  in  the  management  of  the  said  manufactures,  may  be 
deducted  out  of  the  next  year’s  tax  upon  tobacco,  and  paid  into  his  majesty’s 
treasury  for  public  uses. 

“ That  the  said  treasurer  shall  give  such  security  for  his  faithful  discharge 
of  the  trust  reposed  in  him  as  the  lord  lieutenant  or  lords  justices  and 
council  in  Ireland  shall  think  fit,  and  that  for  a reward  of  his  pains  he  shall 

have per  pound  upon  all  receipts  and  disbursements  of  money  that  shall 

pass  through  his  hands,  or  what  other  reward  or  salary  the  said  directors 
shall  think  fit. 

“ That  all  other  officers  employed  in  the  management  of  this  manufacture 
under  the  directors  shall  have  such  salaries  and  give  such  securities  as  the 
said  directors  shall  think  fit. 

“That  the  said  directors  shall  have  the  full  and  sole  power  and  authority 
to  nominate  and  appoint  not  only  the  officers  already  mentioned,  but  so 
many  and  such  others  also  as  they  shall  think  necessary  and  proper  for  the 
good  and  orderly  management  of  this  whole  undertaking,  and  to  turn  out 
any  of  the  said  officers  and  put  others  in  their  places  at  their  pleasure ; 
provided  always  that  no  person  so  near  of  kin  to  any  of  the  said  directors 
as  a cousin-german  shall  be  capable  of  any  place  or  employment  under 
them  ; and  that  whoever  gives  or  takes  any  reward  for  any  employment  in 
this  manufacture  more  than  the  salary  allowed  and  appointed  by  the  said 
directors,  shall  absolutely  and  without  remission  forfeit  his  respective  place 
and  employment. 

“ That  the  said  directors  shall  likewise  have  full  power  and  authority  in 
all  things  whatsoever  relating  to  the  conduct  and  management  of  this  whole 
affair,  as  particularly  (where  it  shall  be  necessary  for  the  improvement  and 
carrying  on  of  the  linen  manufacture)  to  provide  bleacheries,  to  erect  maga- 
zines, workhouses,  and  other  public  buildings  ; to  order  the  buying  and 


^Et965.]  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  IRISH  LINEN  MANUFACTURE.  371 


selling  of  anything  in  such  manner  as  they  judge  expedient,  to  direct  th 
levying  of  the  several  contributions  before  mentioned,  to  order  all  receipts 
and  payments  of  money,  to  regulate  and  appoint  the  breadth,  length,  and 
other  qualities  of  the  several  sorts  of  linen  cloth  to  be  made  by  their  direc- 
tion, to  give  what  names  to  each  sort  they  think  fit,  to  appoint  an  uniform 
length  of  reels  whereupon  to  wind  the  linen  yarn  (which  length  it  is  sup- 
posed may  most  conveniently  be  such  as  to  contain  two  yards  in  circum- 
ference), and  to  do  whatever  other  thing  and  make  whatever  other  regulations 
they  conceive  necessary  and  proper  for  the  improvement  of  hemp  and  flax 
in  Ireland,  and  manufactures  made  out  of  them,  and  more  particularly  for 
the  carrying  on  the  linen  manufacture  there  to  due  perfection ; all  which 
regulations  by  them  made,  they  are  to  take  care  to  see  duly  observed,  and 
that  the  transgressor  thereof  in  any  point  be  prosecuted  and  brought  to  such 
condign  punishment  as  is  or  shall  by  law  be  provided.  That  all  justices 
of  the  peace  and  other  officers  be  aiding  and  assisting  the  said  directors 
and  those  employed  by  them  in  the  execution  of  the  trust  committed  to 
them. 

▲ 

“ And — forasmuch  as  the  whole  success  of  this  undertaking  seems  unavoid- 
ably to  depend  upon  the  fidelity,  skill  and  diligence  of  the  said  directors  in 
the  management  of  it,  we  having  observed,  on  the  one  side,  how  great 
salaries  are  apt  to  tempt  men  to  undertake  things  they  are  neither  skilled 
in  nor  careful  of,  by  which  means  those  undertakings  fall  and  come  to 
nothing,  to  the  great  detriment  of  the  public,  and,  on  the  other  side,  when, 
to  avoid  this  inconvenience,  any  manufacture  is  put  into  the  management 
of  a company,  how  the  greediness  of  present  gain  occasions  stock-jobbing 
or  contests  among  themselves  about  sharing  the  profit,  whilst  the  improve- 
ment thereof  is  neglected,  whereof  we  have  in  this  kingdom  but  too  many 
instances — to  prevent  therefore  the  foresaid  mischief  on  both  sides,  we 
humbly  propose  that  the  said  directors  be  rewarded  for  employing  their 
time  and  care  in  the  management  of  this  business  in  such  a method  and 
manner  as  may  lay  upon  them  the  highest  obligation  imaginable  to  fidelity 
and  diligence  therein,  by  the  increase  of  their  own  private  advantage  in 
proportion  to  the  improvements  they  shall  make  in  the  business  committed 
to  their  charge. 

“ To  which  purpose  we  are  humbly  of  opinion  that  there  be  five  directors, 
honest  and  able  men,  lovers  of  their  country,  and  such  as,  being  willing  to 
take  the  employment  upon  them,  shall  be  nominated  and  authorised  there- 
unto by  parliament. 

“ That  they  shall  each  of  them  have  100Z.  per  annum  salary,  to  being 


372 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OP  THE  STATE. 


Chap.  XIII. 


from  the  time  that  by  their  management  there  shall  be  double  the  number 
of  looms  employed  in  the  weaving  of  linen  in  Ireland  as  were  employed  in 
it  at  the  passing  of  the  act  that  shall  be  thought  expedient  to  be  made  for 
the  establishment  of  that  manufacture,  of  which  looms  so  employed  at  the 
passing  of  that  act  an  exact  account  is  therefore  to  be  taken. 

“ That  from  the  time  the  looms  there  shall  be  three  times  as  many  as 
they  were  at  the  passing  of  the  said  act,  the  said  directors  shall  have  each 
of  them  300?.  per  annum. 

“ That  from  the  time  the  looms  shall  be  four  times  as  many  as  they  were 
at  the  passing  of  the  said  act,  the  said  directors  shall  have  each  of  them 
500?.  per  annum. 

“That  from  the  time  the  said  linen  manufacture  shall  he  there  able  to 
subsist  of  itself,  by  its  own  gains,  without  any  allowance  or  contribution 
from  the  public  for  its  support  and  encouragement,  each  of  the  said  directors 
shall  have  1000?.  per  annum. 

“ That,  if  the  said  manufacture  shall  so  subsist  and  go  on  of  itself  as  to 
be  able  to  supply  the  whole  kingdom  of  England  with  linen,  the  said 
directors  shall  have  each  of  them  l000?.  per  annum  for  their  lives. 

“And,  if  this  proposed  undertaking  shall  by  them  be  brought  to  that 
perfection  as  that  Ireland  shall  send  forth  yearly  to  foreign  markets  to  the 
value  of  100,000?.  in  their  native  hemp,  flax,  or  manufactures  of  any  kind 
made  out  of  them,  the  said  directors  shall  then  have  each  of  them  1000?. 
per  annum  settled  upon  them  and  their  heirs  for  ever. 

“ That  upon  the  death  of  any  one  of  the  said  directors,  the  survivors 
shall,  from  time  to  time,  choose  another  to  keep  the  number  full. 

“ That  this  act  shall  he  in  force  for  twenty-one  years,  but  that  all  the 
personal  privileges  which  shall  be  granted  to  any  one  by  virtue  thereof, 
remain  good  to  him  during  his  or  her  life,  though  they  should  outlive  the 
said  one-and-twenty  years. 

“ All  which,  nevertheless,  is  most  humbly  submitted  to  your  excellencies’ 
great  wisdom. 

“ J.  Bridgewater, 

“ Phil.  Meadows, 

“ John  Pollexfen, 

“ John  Locke, 

“ Abr.  Hill. 

“ Whitehall,  August  the  31st,  1697.” 1 


5 Harleian  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  no.  1324. 


JEt965.]  ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  IRISH  LINEN  MANUFACTURE.  373 

That  elaborate  and  comprehensive  proposal  was 
promptly  sent  by  the  lords  justices  to  Ireland,  in  order 
that  it  might  he  reported  on  by  the  authorities  there. 
"When  it  arrived,  however,  a draft  hill,  handling  the  same 
subject  in  a very  different  way,  which  had  been  prepared 
in  Dublin,  was  on  the  point  of  being  sent  to  London,  and 
the  Irish  authorities  decided  to  delay  farther  inquiry  into 
the  matter  until  their  own  proposal,  which  they  forwarded 
along  with  Locke’s,  had  been  considered  in  London.1 
Thereupon  the  lords  justices  called  upon  the  com- 
missioners of  trade  for  a fresh  report  on  the  whole 
subject,  and  especially  for  their  opinion  on  the  Dublin 
scheme.  Controversies  and  complications,  of  which  a 
detailed  account  would  here  be  out  of  place,  grew  out  of 
this  scheme,  and  extended  over  more  than  two  years  ; and 
the  final  recommendations  of  the  council,  in  which 
Locke’s  original  plan  was  substantially  repeated,  were  not 
forwarded  to  the  lords  justices  until  October,  1698 ; to 
be  then  superseded  by  the  adoption  of  Louis  Crommelin’s 
more  practical  device  for  encouraging  the  linen  manu- 
facture in  Ireland.2 

The  temper  in  which  Locke  pursued  these  inquiries, 
and  the  spirit  that  prompted  him,  are  well  expressed  in 
one  of  his  letters  to  Molyneux  on  the  subject.  “ I am  so 
concerned  for  it,  and  zealous  in  it,  that  I will  neglect  no 
pains  or  interest  of  mine  to  promote  it  as  far  as  I am 
able ; and  I think  it  a shame — whilst  Ireland  is  so 
capable  to  produce  flax  and  hemp,  and  able  to  nourish  the 
poor  at  so  cheap  a rate,  and,  consequently,  to  have  their 
labour  upon  so  easy  terms — that  so  much  money  should  go 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  241  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  4 Oct.,  1697. 

2 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journals  B and  C,  passim : Treasury  Papers, 
vol.  lxvii.,  no.  24. 


374 


IN  THE  SEBVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


Chap.  XIII. 


yearly  out  of  the  king’s  dominions,  to  enrich  foreigners, 
for  those  materials  and  the  manufactures  made  out  of 
them,  when  his  people  of  Ireland,  by  the  advantage  of 
their  soil,  situation,  and  plenty,  might  have  every  penny 
of  it,  if  that  business  were  but  put  into  a right  way.  I 
perceive,  by  one  of  your  letters,  that  you  have  seen  the 
proposals”— Locke’s  own  proposals — “ for  an  act  sent  from 
hence.  I would  he  glad  that  you  would  consider  them, 
and  tell  me  whether  you  think  that  project  will  do,  or 
wherein  it  is  impracticable  and  will  fail,  and  what  may  he 
added  or  altered  in  it  to  make  it  effectual  to  that  end. 
I know,  to  a man  a stranger  to  your  country  as  I am, 
many  things  maybe  overseen  which,  by  reason  of  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  place  or  state  of  the  people,  may,  in 
practice,  have  real  difficulties.  If  there  be  any  such  in 
regard  of  that  project,  you  will  do  me  a favour  to  inform 
me  of  them.  The  fact  is,  I mightily  have  it  upon  my 
heart  to  get  the  linen  manufacture  established  in  a 
flourishing  way  in  your  country.  I am  sufficiently 
sensible  of  the  advantages  it  will  be  to  you,  and  shall  be 
doubly  rejoiced  in  the  success  of  it,  if  I should  be  so 
happy  that  you  and  I could  be  instrumental  in  it,  and 
have  the  chief  hand  in  forming  anything  that  might 
conduce  to  it.  Employ  your  thoughts,  therefore,  I 
beseech  you,  about  it,  and  be  assured  what  help  I can 
give  to  it  here  shall  be  as  readily  and  carefully  employed 
as  if  you  and  I alone  were  to  reap  all  the  profit  of  it.” 1 

In  Locke’s  day  the  science  of  political  economy  was  in 
its  infancy.  He  had  himself  contributed  more  than  any 
other  man  to  its  progress  by  his  definition  of  the  relations 
of  labour  to  property,  and  by  many  other  truths  disclosed 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  258;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  10  Jan., 
1697-8. 


iEt.^65.]  PROTECTIVE  AND  PATERNAL  LEGISLATION.  375 

in  his  ‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government,’  and  in  his  £ Con- 
siderations on  Interest  and  Money.’  But  he  shared 
many  of  the  opinions  that  were  current  in  his  time 
and  long  afterwards,  and  hence  much  of  his  action  as 
a commissioner  of  trade  and  plantations  must  appear 
faulty  to  a modern  critic.  He  wrote  boldly  in  favour  of 
free  trade  in  money  ; but  he  never  discerned  the  import- 
ance of  free  trade  in  other  things.  There  is  nothing  to 
show  that  he  differed  from  his  colleagues  as  to  the  general 
work  done  by  the  council,  or  most  of  the  recommendations 
put  forward  by  it.  It  is  much  more  likely  that  he  led 
them  than  that  he  was  led  by  them  therein,  and  that  he 
was  mainly  responsible  for  the  commercial  legislation 
which  was  especially  abundant  in  1697  and  the  following 
years,  and  nearly  all  of  which  had  for  its  object  the 
protection  of  particular  trades  and  trading  corporations, 
the  forcing  of  English  industry  and  enterprise  into 
particular  channels,  and  the  disparagement  of  all  foreign 
enterprise,  industry,  and  trade  that  was  thought  to  be  at 
variance  with  English  interests.  Thus  he  must  be  held 
largely  responsible  for  an  act  of  parliament  passed  in 
1697  to  protect  the  English  lustring  company  by 
imposing  very  heavy  penalties  upon  the  smuggling  or 
importation  of  foreign  lustrings,1  and  for  two  acts  passed 
in  the  following  year,  the  one  forbidding  the  exportation 
of  corn,  the  other  prohibiting  the  exportation  of  beer  and 
ale  and  the  manufacture  of  any  other  alcoholic  liquors 
by  the  fermentation  of  corn.2  He  adopted  the  current 
notion  that  the  prosperity  of  England  depended  upon  its 
woollen  manufactures,  and  we  find  that  he  and  his 
colleagues  spent  a great  deal  of  time  in  considering  how 

1 8th  and  9th  of  William  III.,  cap.  36. 

s 10th  of  William  III.,  caps.  8,  4. 


376 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


these  manufactures  could  be  protected  and  developed, 
how  foreign  goods  could  be  kept  out  of  England,  and 
English  goods  forced  upon  foreigners,  and  yet  more  upon 
English  colonists.  All  such  action  is  now  justly  con- 
demned by  every  prudent  statesman  and  wise  economist ; 
hut  much  excuse  may  be  found,  in  the  different  conditions 
of  trade  and  industry  six  generations  ago,  for  the  different 
policy  pursued  in  Locke’s  time,  and  we  certainly  need 
not  he  surprised  that  he,  who  propounded  so  many  new 
truths  to  the  world,  and  enforced  them  so  bravely  in  his 
own  life,  did  not  also  propound  and  enforce  the  doctrine 
of  free  trade. 

A like  apology  must  be  made  for  what  was  faulty  in  the 
most  interesting  of  all  Locke’s  undertakings  as  a com- 
missioner of  trade  and  plantations ; that  in  which  he 
attempted  to  reform  the  poor  law  of  England. 

Pauperism  had  been  painfully  abundant  all  through  the 
disordered  period  of  the  later  Stuart  rule,  following  on 
the  turmoil  of  the  Commonwealth  period ; but  it  was 
greatly  increased  during  the  famous  “ seven  barren  years,” 
from  1692  to  1699.  It  was  partly  in  the  hope  that  the 
new  organisation  might  find  some  means  of  lessening  the 
evil  that  the  council  had  been  established,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  it  entered  on  the  task  almost  immediately 
after  its  appointment.  The  first  year  was  occupied  chiefly 
in  collecting  statistics  and  receiving  evidence  from  a few 
philanthropists  like  Thomas  Firmin  and  John  Cary,  or  so 
far  like  them  as  they  could  he.  The  evidence  showed 
that  various  good-hearted  men  in  different  parts  of  the 
country  were  endeavouring  to  assist  some  of  the  paupers 
in  their  own  districts  by  starting  factories  in  which  work 
was  provided  for  them,  especially  in  flax  spinning  and 
linen  manufacture,  and  paid  for  at  a fair  rate.  But  the 


JEt.9®).]  PROPOSED  POOR  LAW  REFORM.  377 

statistics  proved  that  immense  sums  of  money  collected 
in  the  several  parishes  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  were  often 
very  ill  spent,  and  frequently  either  in  ignorance  or  in 
defiance  of  the  law,  itself  very  confusing  and  inadequate. 
The  question  began  to  be  discussed  in  July,  1697,  and  in 
September,  after  a good  deal  of  debate,  it  was  decided  that 
each  commissioner  should  draw  up  a scheme  of  reform. 
Locke  immediately  set  to  work,  and,  in  so  short  a time  that 
it  is  evident  he  must  have  been  preparing  for  it  long  before, 
produced  a document  which  threw  into  the  shade  the  crude 
efforts  of  those  of  his  colleagues  who  took  the  trouble  to 
write  anything  at  all  on  the  subject.  It  was  brought  up 
on  the  19th  of  October,  and  again  in  a slightly  amended 
form  on  the  26th.  Other  matters,  especially  the  Irish 
linen  hills  which  have  been  referred  to,  caused  it  to  be 
laid  aside  for  seven  weeks.  On  the  17th  of  November  it 
began  to  be  discussed  clause  by  clause.  Locke  was  now 
very  ill,  however,  and  after  six  days  had  been  spent  in 
debate,  in  which  he  was  not  able  to  take  much  part,  he 
had  to  go  down  to  Oates,  leaving  his  colleagues  to  com- 
plete the  business.1  The  important  document  that  he  left 
with  them  was  the  following  representation  to  the  lords 
justices  : — 

“ May  it  please  youe  Excellencies, — His  majesty  having  been  pleased 
by  bis  commission  to  require  us  particularly  to  consider  of  some  proper 
methods  for  setting  on  work  and  employing  the  poor  of  this  kingdom,  and 
making  them  useful  to  the  public,  and  thereby  easing  others  of  that  burden, 
and  by  what  ways  and  means  such  design  may  be  made  most  effectual ; 
we  humbly  beg  leave  to  lay  before  your  excellencies  a scheme  of  such 
methods  as  seem  unto  us  most  proper  for  the  attainment  of  those  ends. 

“ The  multiplying  of  the  poor,  and  the  increase  of  the  tax  for  their 


1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  B,  pp.,  170,  242 — 245,  250,  255, 
2(13—269,  275,  278,  285,  316,  326,  348—355. 


378 


IN  THE  SEEYICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


maintenance,  is  so  general  an  observation  and  complaint  that  it  cannot  be 
doubted  of.  Nor  has  it  been  only  since  the  last  war  that  this  evil  has  come 
upon  us.  It  has  been  a growing  burden  on  the  kingdom  these  many  years, 
and  the  two  last  reigns  felt  the  increase  of  it  as  well  as  the  present. 

“ If  the  causes  of  this  evil  be  well  looked  into,  we  humbly  conceive  it  will 
be  found  to  have  proceeded  neither  from  scarcity  of  provisions  nor  from 
want  of  employment  for  the  poor,  since  the  goodness  of  God  has  blessed 
these  times  with  plenty  no  less  than  the  former,  and  a long  peace  during 
those  reigns  gave  us  as  plentiful  a trade  as  ever.  The  growth  of  the  poor 
must  therefore  have  some  other  cause,  and  it  can  be  nothing  else  but  the 
relaxation  of  discipline  and  corruption  of  manners ; virtue  and  industry 
being  as  constant  companions  on  the  one  side  as  vice  and  idleness  are  on 
the  other. 

W 

“ The  first  step,  therefore,  towards  the  setting  of  the  poor  on  work,  we 
humbly  conceive,  ought  to  be  a restraint  of  their  debauchery  by  a strict 
execution  of  the  laws  provided  against  it,  more  particularly  by  the  suppres- 
sion of  superfluous  brandy  shops  and  unnecessary  alehouses,  especially  in 
country  parishes  not  lying  upon  great  roads. 

“ Could  all  the  able  hands  in  England  be  brought  to  work,  the  greatest 
part  of  the  burden  that  lies  upon  the  industrious  for  maintaining  the  poor 
would  immediately  cease.  For,  upon  a very  moderate  computation,  it  may 
be  concluded  that  above  one  half  of  those  who  receive  relief  from  the 
parishes  are  able  to  get  their  livelihood.  And  all  of  them  who  receive  such 
relief  from  the  parishes,  we  conceive,  may  be  divided  into  these  three  sorts. 

“ First,  those  who  can  do  nothing  at  all  towards  their  own  support. 

“ Secondly,  those  who,  though  they  cannot  maintain  themselves  wholly, 
yet  are  able  to  do  something  towards  it. 

“ Thirdly,  those  who  are  able  to  maintain  themselves  by  their  own 
labour.  And  these  last  may  be  again  subdivided  into  two  sorts  ; namely, 
either  those  who  have  numerous  families  of  children  whom  they  cannot  or 
pretend  they  cannot  support  by  their  labour,  or  those  who  pretend  they 
cannot  get  work  and  so  live  only  by  begging  or  worse. 

“ For  the  suppression  of  this  last  sort  of  begging  drones,  who  live  un- 
necessarily upon  other  people’s  labour,  there  are  already  good  and  whole- 
some laws,  sufficient  for  the  purpose,  if  duly  executed.  We  therefore 
humbly  propose  that  the  execution  thereof  may  be  at  present  revived  by 
proclamation  till  other  remedies  can  be  provided ; as  also  that  order  be 
taken  every  year,  at  the  choosing  of  churchwardens  and  overseers  of  the 


1697.  1 
•®t.  65. J 


RESTRAINT  OF  IDLE  VAGABONDS. 


379 


poor,  that  the  statutes  of  the  39th  Eliz.,  cap.  4,  and  the  43rd  Eliz.,  cap.  2 1 
be  read  and  considered,  paragraph  by  paragraph,  and  the  observation  of 
them  in  all  their  parts  pressed  on  those  who  are  to  be  overseers ; for  we 
have  reason  to  think  that  the  greatest  part  of  the  overseers  of  the  poor 
everywhere  are  wholly  ignorant,  and  never  so  much  as  think  that  it  is  the 
greatest  part,  or  so  much  as  any  part,  of  their  duty  to  set  people  to  work. 

“ But  for  the  more  effectual  restraining  of  idle  vagabonds,  we  further 
humbly  propose  that  a new  law  may  be  obtained,  by  which  it  be  enacted, 

“ That  all  men  sound  of  limb  and  mind,  above  fourteen  and  under  fifty 
years  of  age,  begging  in  maritime  counties  out  of  their  own  parish  without 
a pass,  shall  be  seized  on  either  by  any  officer  of  the  parish  where  they  so 
beg  (which  officers  by  virtue  of  their  offices  shall  be  authorised,  and  under 
a penalty  required  to  do  it),  or  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  house  themselves 
where  they  beg,  and  be  by  them  or  any  of  them  brought  before  the  next 
justice  of  the  peace  or  guardian  of  the  poor  (to  be  chosen  as  hereafter 
mentioned)  who  in  this  case  shall.have  the  power  of  a justice  of  the  peace, 
and,  by  such  justice  of  the  peace  or  guardian  of  the  poor  (after  the  due  and 
usual  correction  in  the  case),  be  by  a pass  sent,  not  to  the  house  of  correc- 
tion (since  those  houses  are  now  in  most  counties  complained  of  to  be 
rather  places  of  ease  and  preferment  to  the  masters  thereof  than  of  correction 
and  reformation  to  those  who  are  sent  thither),  nor  to  their  places  of  habita- 
tion (since  such  idle  vagabonds  usually  name  some  remote  part,  whereby 
the  county  is  put  to  great  charge,  and  they  usually  make  their  escape  from 
the  negligent  officers  before  they  come  thither  and  are  at  liberty  for  a new 
ramble),  but,  if  it  be  in  a maritime  county  as  aforesaid,  that  they  be  sent 
to  the  next  seaport  town,  there  to  be  kept  at  hard  labour,  till  some  of  his 
majesty’s  ships,  coming  in  or  near  there,  give  an  opportunity  of  putting 
them  on  board,  where  they  shall  serve  three  years,  under  strict  discipline, 
at  soldier’s  pay  (subsistence  money  being  deducted  for  their  victuals  on 
board),  and  be  punished  .as  deserters  if  they  go  on  shore  without  leave,  or, 


1 The  former  of  these  acts  provided  for  the  erection  of  houses  of  correc- 
tion and  the  due  punishment  of  vagabonds  therein.  The  latter  is  the 
famous  statute  on  which  our  poor  laws  are  based,  directing  that  there  shall 
be  overseers  of  the  poor  in  every  parish,  empowered,  conjointly  with  the 
justices  of  the  peace,  to  levy  poor’s  rates,  set  the  able-bodied  poor  to 
work,  provide  for  impotent  paupers,  apprentice  out  pauper  children,  and  so 
forth. 


380 


IN  THE  SEEVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[ClIAP.  XIII. 


when  sent  on  shore,  if  they  either  go  further  or  stay  longer  than  they  have 
leave. 

“ That  all  men  begging  in  maritime  counties  without  passes,  that  are 
maimed  or  above  fifty  years  of  age,  and  all  of  any  age  so  begging  without 
passes  in  inland  counties  nowhere  bordering  on  the  sea,  shall  be  sent  to 
the  next  house  of  correction,  there  to  be  kept  at  hard  labour  for  three 
years. 

“ And,  to  the  end  that  the  true  use  of  the  houses  of  correction  may  not 
he  perverted  as  of  late  it  has  for  the  most  part  been,  that  the  master  of 
each  such  house  shall  be  obliged  to  allow  unto  every  one  committed  to  his 
charge  fourpence  per  diem  for  their  maintenance  in  and  about  London; 
but,  in  remoter  counties,  where  wages  afid  provisions  are  much  cheaper, 
there  the  rate  to  be  settled  by  the  grand  jury  and  judge  at  the  assizes ; for 
which  the  said  master  shall  have  no  other  consideration  nor  allowance  but 
what  their  labour  shall  produce  ; whom,  therefore,  he  shall  have  power  to 
employ  according  to  his  discretion,  consideration  being  had  of  their  age 
and  strength. 

“ That  the  justices  of  the  peace  shall,  each  quarter-sessions,  make  a 
narrow  inquiry  into  the  state  and  management  of  the  houses  of  correction 
within  their  district,  and  take  a strict  account  of  the  carriage  of  all  who  are 
there,  and,  if  they  find  that  any  one  is  stubborn  and  not  at  all  mended  by 
the  discipline  of  the  place,  that  they  order  him  a longer  stay  there  and 
severer  discipline,  that  so  nobody  may  be  dismissed  till  he  has  given  manifest 
proof  of  amendment,  the  end  for  which  he  was  sent  thither. 

“ That  whoever  shall  counterfeit  a pass  shall  lose  his  ears  for  the 
forgery  the  first  time  that  he  is  found  guilty  thereof,  and  the  second  time 
that  he  shall  be  transported  to  the  plantations,  as  in  case  of  felony. 

“That  whatever  female  above  fourteen  years  old  shall  be  found  begging 
out  of  her  own  parish  without  a pass  (if  she  be  an  inhabitant  of  a parish 
within  five  miles’  distance  of  that  she  is  found  begging  in)  shall  he 
conducted  home  to  her  parish  by  the  constable,  tithing-man,  overseer  of  the 
poor,  churchwarden,  or  other  sworn  officer  of  the  parish  wherein  she  was 
found  begging,  who,  by  his  place  and  office,  shall  be  required  to  do  it  and 
to  deliver  her  to  the  overseer  of  the  poor  of  the  parish  to  which  she 
belongs,  from  whom  he  shall  receive  twelvepence  for  his  pains,  which 
twelvepence,  if  she  be  one  that  receives  public  relief,  shall  be  deducted  out 
of  her  parish  allowance,  or,  if  she  be  not  relieved  by  the  parish,  shall  be 
levied  on  her  or  her  parents’  or  her  master’s  goods. 

“ That,  whenever  any  such  female  above  fourteen  years  old,  within  the 


1697.  "I 
A3t.  65. J 


RESTRAINT  OF  IDLE  VAGABONDS. 


381 


same  distance,  commits  the  same  fault  a second  time,  and  whenever  the 
same  or  any  such  other  female  is  found  begging  without  a lawful  pass,  the 
first  time,  at  a greater  distance  than  five  miles  from  the  place  of  her  abode, 
it  shall  be  lawful  for  any  justice  of  the  peace  or  guardian  of  the  poor,  upon 
complaint  made,  to  send  her  to  the  house  of  correction,  there  to  be  employed 
in  hard  work  three  months,  and  so  much  longer  as  shall  be  to  the  next 
quarter- sessions  after  the  determination  of  the  said  three  months,  and  that 
then,  after  due  correction,  she  have  a pass  made  her  by  the  sessions  to 
carry  her  home  to  the  place  of  her  abode. 

“ That,  if  any  boy  or  girl,  under  fourteen  years  of  age,  shall  be  found 
begging  out  of  the  parish  where  they  dwell  (if  within  five  miles’  distance  of 
the  said  parish),  they  shall  be  sent  to  the  next  working  school,  there  to  be 
soundly  whipped  and  kept  at  work  till  evening,  so  that  they  may  be  dis- 
missed time  enough  to  get  to  their  place  of  abode  that  night.  Or,  if*  they 
live  further  than  five  miles  ofi'  from  the  place  where  they  are  taken  begging, 
that  they  be  sent  to  the  next  house  of  correction,  there  to  remain  at  work 
six  weeks  and  so  much  longer  as  till  the  next  sessions  after  the  end  of  the 
said  six  weeks. 

“These  idle  vagabonds  being  thus  suppressed,  there  will  not,  we  suppose, 
in  most  country  parishes,  be  many  men  who  will  have  the  pretence  that 
they  want  work.  However,  in  order  to  the  taking  away  of  that  pretence, 
whenever  it  happens,  we  humbly  propose  that  it  may  be  further  enacted, 

“ That  the  guardian  of  the  poor  of  the  parish  where  any  such  pretence  is 
made,  shall,  the  next  Sunday  after  complaint  made  to  him,  acquaint  the 
parish  that  such  a person  complains  he  wants  work,  and  shall  then  ask 
whether  any  one  is  willing  to  employ  him  at  a lower  rate  than  is  usually 
given,  which  rate  it  shall  then  be  in  the  power  of  the  said  guardian  to  set ; 
for  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  any  one  should  be  refused  to  be  employed 
by  his  neighbours  whilst  others  are  set  to  work,  but  for  some  defect  in  his 
ability  or  honesty,  for  which  it  is  reasonable  be  should  suffer,  and  he  that 
cannot  be  set  on  work  for  twelvepence  per  diem,  must  be  content  with 
ninepence  or  tenpence  rather  than  live  idly.  But,  if  nobody  in  the  parish 
voluntarily  accept  such  a person  at  the  rate  proposed  by  the  guardians  of 
the  poor,  that  then  it  shall  be  in  the  power  of  the  said  guardian,  with  the 
rest  of  the  parish,  to  make  a list  of  days,  according  to  the  proportion  of 
every  one’s  tax  in  the  parish  to  the  poor,  and  that,  according  to  such  list, 
every  inhabitant  in  the  same  parish  shall  be  obliged,  in  their  turn,  to  set 
such  unemployed  poor  men  of  the  same  parish  on  work,  at  such  under- 


382 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


rates  as  the  guardians  of  the  poor  shall  appoint ; and,  if  any  person  refuse  to 
set  the  poor  at  work  in  his  turn  as  thus  directed,  that  such  person  shall 
be  bound  to  pay  them  their  appointed  wages,  whether  he  employ  them  or 
no. 

“ That,  if  any  poor  man,  otherwise  unemployed,  refuse  to  work  according 
to  such  order  (if  it  be  in  a maritime  county),  he  shall  be  sent  to  the  next 
port,  and  there  put  on  board  some  of  his  majesty’s  ships,  to  serve  there 
three  years  as  before  proposed  ; and  that  what  pay  shall  accrue  to  him  for 
his  service  there,  above  his  diet  and  clothes,  be  paid  to  the  overseers  of  the 
poor  of  the  parish  to  which  he  belongs,  for  the  maintenance  of  his  wife  and 
children,  if  he  have  any,  or  else  towards  the  relief  of  other  poor  of  the  same 
parish  ; but,  if  it  be  not  in  a maritime  county,  that  every  poor  man  thus 
refusing  to  work  shall  be  sent  to  the  house  of  correction. 

“ These  methods  we  humbly  propose  as  proper  to  be  enacted,  in  order 
to  the  employment  of  the  poor  who  are  able  but  will  not  work  ; which  sort, 
by  the  punctual  execution  of  such  a law,  we  humbly  conceive,  may  be 
quickly  reduced  to  a very  small  number,  or  quite  extirpated. 

“ But  the  greatest  part  of  the  poor  maintained  by  parish  rates  are  not 
absolutely  unable  nor  wholly  unwilling  to  do  anything  towards  the  getting 
of  their  livelihoods  ; yet  even  these,  either  through  want  of  fit  work  pro- 
vided for  them,  or  their  unskilfulness  in  working  in  what  might  be  a public 
advantage,  do  little  that  turns  to  any  account,  but  live  idly  upon  the  parish 
allowance  or  begging,  if  not  worse.  Their  labour,  therefore,  as  far  as  they 
are  able  to  work,  should  be  saved  to  the  public,  and  what  their  earnings 
come  short  of  a full  maintenance  should  be  supplied  out  of  the  labour  of 
others,  that  is,  out  of  the  parish  allowance. 

“ These  are  of  two  sorts  : — 

“ 1.  Grown  people,  who,  being  decayed  from  their  full  strength,  could 
yet  do  something  for  their  living,  though,  under  pretence  that  they  cannot 
get  work,  they  generally  do  nothing.  In  the  same  case  with  these  are  most 
of  the  wives  of  day  labourers,  when  they  come  to  have  two  or  three  or  more 
children.  The  looking  after  their  children  gives  them  not  liberty  to  go 
abroad  to  seek  for  work,  and  so,  having  no  work  at  home,  in  the  broken 
intervals  of  their  time  they  earn  nothing ; but  the  aid  of  the  parish  is  fain 
to  come  in  to  their  support,  and  their  labour  is  wholly  lost ; which  is  so 
much  loss  to  the  public. 

“ Every  one  must  have  meat,  drink,  clothing,  and  firing.  So  much  goes 
out  of  the  stock  of  the  kingdom,  whether  they  work  or  no.  Supposing  then 


1697.  I 
jEt.  65. J 


RELIEF  OF  THE  DESERVING  POOR. 


3S3 


there  be  a hundred  thousand  poor  in  England,  that  live  upon  the  parish, 
that  is,  who  are  maintained  by  other  people’s  labour  (for  so  is  every  one 
who  lives  upon  alms  without  working),  if  care  were  taken  that  every  one  of 
these,  by  some  labour  in  the  woollen  or  other  manufacture,  should  earn  but 
a penny  per  diem  (which,  one  with  another,  they  might  well  do  and  more), 
this  would  gain  to  England  130,000£.  per  annum,  which,  in  eight  years, 
would  make  England  above  a million  of  pounds  richer. 

“ This,  rightly  considered,  shows  us  what  is  the  true  and  proper  relief  of 
the  poor.  It  consists  in  finding  work  for  them,  and  taking  care  they  do  not 
live  like  drones  upon  the  labour  of  others.  And  in  order  to  this  end  we 
find  the  laws  made  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  were  intended  ; however,  by 
an  ignorance  of  their  intention  or  a neglect  of  their  due  execution,  they  are 
turned  only  to  the  maintenance  of  people  in  idleness,  without  at  all  examining 
into  the  lives,  abilities,  or  industry  of  those  who  seek  for  relief. 

“In  order  to  the  suppression  of  these  idle  beggars,  the  corporations  in 
England  have  beadles  authorised  and  paid  to  prevent  the  breach  of  the  law 
in  that  particular  ; yet,  nevertheless,  the  streets  everywhere  swarm  with 
beggars,  to  the  increase  of  idleness,  poverty,  and  villany,  and  to  the  shame 
of  Christianity.  And,  if  it  should  be  asked  in  any  town  in  England,  how 
many  of  these  visible  trespassers  have  been  taken  up  and  brought  to  punish- 
ment by  those  officers  this  last  year,  we  have  reason  to  think  the  number 
would  be  found  to  have  been  very  small,  because  that  of  beggars  swarm- 
ing in  the  street  is  manifestly  very  great. 

“ But  the  remedy  of  this  disorder  is  so  well  provided  by  the  laws  now  in 
force  that  we  can  impute  the  continuance  and  increase  of  it  to  nothing  but  a 
general  neglect  of  their  execution. 

“ 2.  Besides  the  grown  people  above  mentioned,  the  children  of  labouring 
people  are  an  ordinary  burden  to  the  parish,  and  are  usually  maintained  in 
idleness,  so  that  their  labour  also  is  generally  lost  to  the  public  till  they  are 
twelve  or  fourteen  years  old. 

“ The  most  effectual  remedy  for  this  that  we  are  able  to  conceive,  and 
which  we  therefore  humbly  propose,  is,  that,  in  the  fore-mentioned  new  law 
to  be  enacted,  it  be  further  provided  that  working  schools  be  set  up  in  every 
parish,  to  which  the  children  of  all  such  as  demand  relief  of  the  parish, 
above  three  and  under  fourteen  years  of  age,  whilst  they  live  at  home  with 
their  parents,  and  are  not  otherwise  employed  for  their  livelihood  by  the 
allowance  of  the  overseers  of  the  poor,  shall  be  obliged  to  come. 

“ By  this  means  the  mother  will  be  eased  of  a great  part  of  her  trouble  in 
looking  after  and  providing  for  them  at  home,  and  so  be  at  the  more  liberty 


384 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


to  work ; the  children  will  be  kept  in  much  better  order,  be  better  provided 
for,  and  from  infancy  be  inured  to  work,  which  is  of  no  small  consequence 
to  the  making  of  them  sober  and  industrious  all  their  lives  after ; and  the 
parish  will  he  either  eased  of  this  burden  or  at  least  of  the  misuse  in  the 
present  management  of  it.  For,  a great  number  of  children  giving  a poor 
man  a title  to  an  allowance  from  the  parish,  this  allowance  is  given  once  a 
week  or  once  a month  to  the  father  in  money,  which  he  not  seldom  spends 
on  himself  at  the  alehouse,  whilst  his  children,  for  whose  sake  he  had  it,  are 
left  to  suffer,  or  perish  under  the  want  of  necessaries,  unless  the  charity  of 
neighbours  relieve  them. 

“ We  humbly  conceive  that  a man  and  his  wife  in  health  may  be  able  by 
their  ordinary  labour  to  maintain  themselves  and  two  children.  More  than 
two  children  at  one  time  under  the  age  of  three  years  will  seldom  happen  in 
one  family.  If  therefore  all  the  children  above  three  years  old  be  taken  off 
from  their  hands  those  who  have  never  so  many,  whilst  they  remain  them- 
selves in  health,  will  not  need  any  allowance  for  them. 

“ We  do  not  suppose  that  children  of  three  years  old  will  be  able  at  that  age 
to  get  their  livelihoods  at  the  working  school,  but  we  are  sure  that  what  is 
necessary  for  their  relief  will  more  effectually  have  that  use  if  it  be  distri- 
buted to  them  in  bread  at  that  school  than  if  it  be  given  to  their  fathers  in 
money.  What  they  have  at  home  from  their  parents  is  seldom  more  than 
bread  and  water,  and  that,  many  of  them,  very  scantiy  too.  If  therefore 
care  be  taken  that  they  have  each  of  them  their  belly-full  of  bread  daily  at 
school,  they  will  be  in  no  danger  of  famishing,  but,  on  the  contrary,  they 
will  be  healthier  and  stronger  than  those  who  are  bred  otherwise.  Nor  will 
this  practice  cost  the  overseers  any  trouble  ; for  a baker  may  be  agreed  with 
to  furnish  and  bring  into  the  school-house  every  day  the  allowance  of  bread 
necessary  for  all  the  scholars  that  are  there.  And  to  this  may  be  also 
added,  without  any  trouble,  in  cold  weather,  if  it  be  thought  needful,  a little 
warm  water-gruel ; for  the  same  fire  that  warms  the  room  may  be  made  use 
of  to  boil  a pot  of  it. 

“From  this  method  the  children  will  not  only  reap  the  fore-mentioned 
advantages  with  far  less  charge  to  the  parish  than  what  is  now  done  for 
them,  but  they  will  be  also  thereby  the  more  obliged  to  come  to  school  and 
apply  themselves  to  work,  because  otherwise  they  will  have  no  victuals, 
and  also  the  benefit  thereby  both  to  themselves  and  the  parish  will  daily 
increase ; for,  the  earnings  of  their  labour  at  school  every  day  increasing,  it 
may  reasonably  be  concluded  that,  computing  all  the  earnings  of  a child 
from  three  to  fourteen  years  of  age,  the  nourishment  and  teaching  of  such  a 


1697.  "I 

m 65. J 


WORKING  SCHOOLS  FOR  CHILDREN. 


385 


child  during  that  whole  time  will  cost  the  parish  nothing;  whereas  there  is 
no  child  now  which  from  its  birth  is  maintained  by  the  parish  but,  before 
the  age  of  fourteen,  costs  the  parish  50 1.  or  60L 

“ Another  advantage  also  of  bringing  children  thus  to  a working  school  is 
that  by  this  means  they  may  be  obliged  to  come  constantly  to  church  every 
Sunday,  along  with  their  schoolmasters  or  dames,  whereby  they  may  be 
brought  into  some  sense  of  religion ; whereas  ordinarily  now,  in  their  idle 
and  loose  way  of  breeding  up,  they  are  as  utter  strangers  both  to  religion 
and  morality  as  they  are  to  industry. 

“ In  order  therefore  to  the  more  effectual  carrying  on  of  this  work  to  the 
advantage  of  this  kingdom,  we  further  humbly  propose  that  these  schools  be 
generally  for  spinning  or  knitting,  or  some  other  part  of  the  woollen  manufac- 
ture, unless  in  countries  1 where  the  place  shall  furnish  some  other  materials 
fitter  for  the  employment  of  such  poor  children ; in  which  places  the  choice 
of  those  materials  for  their  employment  may  be  left  to  the  pi  udence  and 
direction  of  the  guardians  of  the  poor  of  that  hundred,  knd  that  the 
teachers  in  these  schools  be  paid  out  of  the  poor’s  rate,  as  can  be  agreed. 

“ This,  though  at  first  setting  up  it  may  cost  the  parish  a little,  yet  we 
humbly  conceive  (the  earnings  of  the  children  abating  the  charge  of  their 
maintenance,  and  as  much  work  being  required  of  each  of  them  as  they  are 
reasonably  able  to  perform)  it  will  quickly  pay  its  own  charges  with  an 
overplus. 

“ That,  where  the  number  of  the  poor  children  of  any  parish  is  greater 
than  for  them  all  to  be  employed  in  one  school  they  be  there  divided  into 
two,  and  the  boys  and  girls,  if  thought  convenient,  taught  and  kept  to  work 
separately. 

“ That  the  handicraftsmen  in  each  hundred  be  bound  to  take  every  other 
of  their  respective  apprentices  from  amongst  the  boys  in  some  one  of  the 
schools  in  the  said  hundred  without  any  money ; which  boys  they  may  so 
take  at  what  age  they  please,  to  be  bound  to  them  till  the  age  of  twenty- 
three  years,  that  so  the  length  of  time  may  more  than  make  amends  for  the 
usual  sums  that  are.  given  to  handicraftsmen  with  such  apprentices. 

“ That  those  also  in  the  hundred  who  keep  in  their  hands  land  of  their 
own  to  the  value  of  25 1.  per  annum,  or  upwards,  or  who  rent  50 l.  per  annujp 
or  upwards,  may  choose  out  of  the  schools  of  the  said  hundred  what  boy 
each  of  them  pleases,  to  be  his  apprentice  in  husbandry  on  the  sam 
condition. 


Vol.  II. — 25 


1 That  is,  districts. 


386 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


“ That  whatever  boys  are  not  by  this  means  hound  out  apprentices  before 
they  are  full  fourteen  shall,  at  the  Easter  meeting  of  the  guardians  of  each 
hundred  every  year,  be  bound  to  such  gentlemen,  yeomen,  or  farmers 
within  the  said  hundred  as  have  the  greatest  number  of  acres  of  land  in 
their  hands,  who  shall  be  obliged  to  take  them  for  their  apprentices  till  the 
age  of  twenty-three,  or  bind  them  out  at  their  own  cost  to  some  handi- 
craftsmen ; provided  always  that  no  such  gentleman,  yeoman,  or  farmer 
shall  be  bound  to  have  two  such  apprentices  at  a time. 

“That  grown  people  also  (to  take  away  their  pretence  of  want  of  work) 
may  come  to  the  said  working  schools  to  learn,  where  work  shall  accord- 
ingly be  provided  for  them. 

“ That  the  materials  to  be  employed  in  these  schools  and  among  other 
the  poor  people  of  the  parish  be  provided  by  a common  stock  in  each  hun- 
dred, to  be  raised  out  of  a certain  portion  of  the  poor’s  rate  of  each  parish 
as  requisite  ; which  stock,  we  humbly  conceive,  need  be  raised  but  once ; 
for,  if  rightly  managed,  it  will  increase. 

“ That  some  person,  experienced  and  well  skilled  in  the  particular  manu- 
facture which  shall  be  judged  fittest  to  set  the  poor  of  each  hundred  on 
work,  be  appointed  storekeeper  for  that  hundred,  who  shall,  accordingly, 
buy  in  the  wool  or  other  materials  necessary ; that  this  storekeeper  be 
chosen  by  the  guardians  of  the  poor  of  each  hundred,  and  be  under  their 
direction,  and  have  such  salary  as  they  shall  appoint  to  be  paid  pro  rata 
upon  the  pound  out  of  the  poor’s  tax  of  every  parish,  and,  over  and  above 
which  salary,  that  he  also  have  two  shillings  in  the  pound  yearly  for  every 
twenty  shillings  that  shall  be  lessened  in  the  poor’s  tax  of  any  parish  from 
the  first  year  of  his  management. 

“That  to  this  storekeeper  one  of  the  overseers  of  the  poor  of  every  parish 
shall  repair  as  often  as  there  shall  be  occasion  to  fetch  from  him  the  mate- 
rials for  the  employment  of  the  poor  of  each  parish  ; which  materials  the 
said  overseer  shall  distribute  to  the  teachers  of  the  children  of  each  school 
and  also  to  other  poor  who  demand  relief  of  the  said  parish  to  be  wrought 
by  them  at  home  in  such  quantity  as  he  or  the  guardian  of  the  parish  shall 
judge  reasonable  for  each  of  them  respectively  to  despatch  in  one  week, 
allowing  unto  each  such  poor  person  for  his  or  her  work  what  he  and  the 
storekeeper  shall  agree  it  to  be  worth  ; hut,  if  the  said  overseer  and  store- 
keeper do  not  agree  about  the  price  of  any  such  work,  that  then  any  three 
or  more  of  the  guardians  of  that  hundred  (whereof  the  guardian  of  the  same 
parish  in  which  the  contest  arises  to  be  always  one)  determine  it. 

“ That  the  sale  of  the  materials  thus  manufactured  be  made  by  the  store- 


1697.  I 
iEt.  65. J 


POOR-LAW  OFFICERS. 


387 


keeper  in  the  presence  of  one  or  more  of  the  guardians  of  each  hundred 
and  not  otherwise,  and  that  an  exact  account  be  kept  by  the  said  storekeeper 
of  all  that  he  buys  in  and  sells  out,  as  also  of  the  several  quantities  of  un- 
wrought materials  that  he  delivers  to  the  respective  overseers  and  of  the 
manufactured  returns  that  he  receives  back  again  from  them. 

“ That,  if  any  person  to  whom  wool  or  any  other  materials  are  delivered 
to  be  wrought  shall  spoil  or  embezzle  the  same,  if  it  be  one  who  receives 
alms  from  the  parish,  the  overseers  of  the  poor  of  that  parish  shall  pay  unto 
the  storekeeper  what  it  cost,  and  deduct  that  sum  out  of  the  parish  allow- 
ance to  the  person  who  has  so  spoiled  or  embezzled  any  such  materials,  or, 
if  it  be  one  that  receives  no  allowance  from  the  parish,  then  the  said  over- 
seers shall  demand  it  in  money  of  the  person  that  spoiled  or  embezzled  it, 
and  if  the  person  so  offending  refuse  to  pay  it,  the  guardian  of  the  poor  of 
that  parish,  upon  oath  made  to  him  by  any  of  the  said  overseers  that  he 
delivered  such  materials  to  such  person,  and  that  he  paid  for  them  such  a 
sum  to  the  storekeeper  (which  oath  every  such  guardian  may  be  empowered 
to  administer),  shall  grant  unto  the  said  overseer  a warrant  to  distrain  upon 
the  goods  of  the  person  so  offending,  and  sell  the  goods  so  distrained,  ren- 
dering the  overplus. 

“ That  the  guardian  of  the  poor  of  every  parish,  to  be  chosen  by  those 
who  pay  to  the  relief  of  the  poor  of  the  said  parish,  shall  be  chosen,  the 
first  time,  within  three  months  of  the  passing  of  the  act  now  proposed  ; 
that  the  guardians  thus  chosen  by  the  respective  parishes  of  each  hundred 
shall  have  the  inspection  of  all  things  relating  to  the  employment  and  relief 
of  the  poor  of  the  said  hundred  ; that  one  third  part  of  the  whole  number 
of  the  guardians  of  every  hundred  thus  chosen  shall  go  out  every  year,  the 
first  year  by  lot  out  of  the  whole  number,  the  second  year  by  lot  out  of  the 
remaining  two-thirds,  and  for  ever  afterwards  in  their  turns,  so  that  after 
the  first  two  years  every  one  shall  continue  in  three  years  successively  and 
no  longer ; and  that  for  the  supply  of  any  vacancy  as  it  shall  happen  a 
new  guardian  be  chosen  as  aforesaid  in  any  respective  parish  at  the  same 
time  that  the  overseers  of  the  poor  are  usually  chosen  .there,  or  at  any  other 
time  within  one  month  after  any  such  vacancy. 

“ That  the  guardians  of  the  poor  of  each  respective  hundred  shall  mejt 
every  year  in  Easter  week,  in  the  place  where  the  stores  of  that  hundred 
are  kept,  to  take  an  account  of  the  stock,  and  as  often  else  at  other  times 
as  shall  be  necessary  to  inspect  the  management  of  it  and  to  give  directions 
therein,  and  in  all  other  things  relating  to  the  poor  of  the  hundred. 

“ That  no  person  in  any  parish  shall  be  admitted  to  an  allowance  from 


388 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chai>.  xm. 


the  parish  but  hy  the  joint  consent  of  the  guardian  of  the  said  parish  and 
the  vestry. 

“ That  the  said  guardians  also,  each  of  them  within  the  hundred  whereof 
he  is  guardian,  have  the  power  of  a justice  of  the  peace  over  vagabonds 
and  beggars,  to  make  them  passes,  to  send  them  to  the  seaport  towns  or 
houses  of  correction,  as  before  proposed. 


“ These  foregoing  rules  and  methods  being  what  we  humbly  conceive 
most  proper  to  he  put  in  practice  for  the  employment  and  relief  of  the  poor 
generally  throughout  the  country,  we  now  further  humbly  propose  for  the 
better  and  more  easy  attainment  of  the  same  end  in  cities  and  towns 
corporate,  that  it  may  be  enacted, 

“ That  in  all  cities  and  towns  corporate  the  poor’s  tax  be  not  levied  hy 
distinct  parishes,  but  by  one  equal  tax  throughout  the  whole  corporation. 

“ That  in  each  corporation  there  be  twelve  guardians  cf  the  poor,  chosen 
by  the  said  corporation,  whereof  four  to  go  out  by  lot  at  the  end  of  the  first 
year,  other  four  of  the  remaining  number  to  go  out  also  by  lot  the  next 
year,  and  the  remaining  four  the  third  year,  and  a new  four  chosen  every 
year  in  the  rooms  of  those  that  go  out,  to  keep  up  the  number  of  twelve 
full,  and  that  no  one  continue  in  above  three  years  successively. 

That  these  guardians  have  the  power  of  setting  up  and  ordering  working 
schools  as  they  see  convenient,  within  each  corporation  respectively,  to 
which  schools  the  children  of  all  that  are  relieved  by  the  said  corporation, 
from  three  to  fourteen  years  of  age,  shall  be  bound  to  come  as  long  as  they 
continue  unemployed  in  some  other  settled  service,  to  be  approved  of  by 
the  overseers  of  the  poor  of  that  parish  to  which  they  belong. 

“ That  these  guardians  have  also  the  sole  power  of  ordering  and  dis- 
posing of  the  money  raised  in  each  corporation  for  the  use  of  the  poor, 
whether  for  the  providing  of  materials  to  set  them  on  work,  or  for  the 
relieving  of  those  whom  they  judge  not  able  to  earn  their  own  livelihood ; 
and  that  they  be  the  sole  judges  who  are  or  are  not  fit  to  receive  public 
relief,  and  in  what  proportion. 

“ That  the  said  guardians  have  also  the  power  to  send  any  persons 
begging  without  a lawful  pass  to  the  next  seaport  town  or  house  of  correc- 
tion, as  before  propounded. 

“ That  they  have  likewise  power  to  appoint  a treasurer  to  receive  all 
money  raised  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  ; which  treasurer  shall  issue  all  such 
money  only  by  their  order,  and  shall  once  a year  pass  his  accounts  before 
them  ; and  that  they  also  appoint  one  or  more  storekeepers,  as  they  shall 


1697.  "I 
m.  65.J 


POOR-LAW  OFFICERS. 


389 


see  occasion,  with  such  rewards  or  salaries  as  they  think  fit  ; which  store- 
keepers shall  in  like  manner  be  accountable  unto  them,  provided  always 
tha  tthe  mayor  or  bailiffs  or  other  chief  officers  of  each  corporation  have 
notice  given  him  that  he  may  be  present  (which  we  humbly  propose  may 
be  enjoined  on  all  such  officers  respectively)  at  the  passing  of  the  accounts 
both  of  the  treasurer  and  storekeepers  of  the  poor  within  each  respective 
corporation. 

That  the  teachers  in  each  school,  or  some  other  person  thereunto  ap- 
pointed, shall  fetch  from  the  respective  storekeepers  the  materials  they  are 
appointed  to  work  upon  in  that  school,  and  in  such  quantities  as  they  are 
ordered,  which  materials  shall  be  manufactured  accordingly,  and  then 
returned  to  the  storekeeper,  and  by  him  be  either  given  out  to  be  further 
manufactured  or  else  disposed  of  to  the  best  advantage,  as  the  guardians 
shall  direct. 

“ That  the  overseers  of  the  poor  shall  in  like  manner  take  from  the 
storekeeper,  and  distribute  unto  those  who  are  under  the  public  relief, 
such  materials,  and  in  such  proportions,  as  shall  be  ordered  each  of  them 
for  a week’s  work,  and  not  pay  unto  any  of  the  poor  so  employed  the 
allowance  appointed  them  till  they  bring  back  their  respective  tasks  well 
performed. 

“ That  the  overseers  of  the  poor  of  each  parish  shall  be  chosen  as  they 
are  now,  and  have  the  same  power  to  collect  the  poor's  rates  of  their  respec- 
tive parishes  as  now ; but  that  they  issue  out  the  money  so  collected  for  the 
relief  and  maintenance  of  the  poor  according  to  such  orders  and  directions 
as  they  shall  receive  from  the  guardians.  And  that  the  accounts  of  the  over- 
seers of  the  poor  of  each  parish,  at  the  end  of  their  year,  shall  be  laid  before 
such  persons  as  the  parish  shall  appoint  to  inspect  them,  that  they  may 
make  such  observations  on  the  said  accounts,  or  exceptions  against  them, 
as  they  may  be  liable  to,  and  that  then  the  said  accounts,  with  those  obser- 
vations and  exceptions,  be  examined  by  the  treasurer  and  two  of  the  guar- 
dians (whereof  one  to  be  nominated  by  the  guardians  themselves  and  the 
other  by  the  parish),  and  that  the  said  accounts  be  passed  by  the  allowance 
of  those  three. 

“ That  the  said  guardians  shall  have  power  to  appoint  one  or  more  beadles 
of  beggars,  which  beadles  shall  be  authorised  and  required  to  seize  upon 
any  stranger  begging  in  the  streets,  or  any  one  of  the  said  corporation 
begging  either  without  the  badge  appointed  to  be  worn  or  at  hours  not 
allowed  by  the  said  guardians  to  beg  in,  and  bring  all  such  persons  before 
any  one  of  the  said  guardians.  And  that,  if  any  of  the  said  beadles  neglect 


390 


IN  THE  SEBVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII 


their  said  duty,  so  that  strangers,  or  other  beggars  not  having  the  badge 
appointed  or  at  hours  not  allowed,  be  found  frequenting  the  streets,  the  said 
guardians,  upon  complaint  thereof  made  to  them,  shall  have  power  and  be 
required  to  punish  the  beadle  so  offending,  for  the  first  fault,  at  their  own 
discretion ; but,  upon  a second  complaint  proved  before  them,  that  they 
send  the  said  beadle  to  the  house  of  correction,  or  (if  it  be  in  a maritime 
county,  and  the  beadle  offending  be  a lusty  man  and  under  fifty  years  of 
age),  to  the  next  seaport  town,  in  order  to  the  putting  him  aboard  some  of 
his  majesty’s  ships,  to  serve  there  three  years  as  before  proposed. 

“ That  those  who  are  not  able  to  work  at  all,  in  corporations  where  there 
are  no  hospitals  to  receive  them,  be  lodged  three  or  four  or  more  in  one 
room,  and  yet  more  in  one  house,  where  one  fire  may  serve,  and  one  atten- 
dant may  provide  for  many  of  them,  with  less  charge  than  when  they  live 
at  their  own  choice  scatteringly. 

“ And,  since  the  behaviour  and  wants  of  the  poor  are  best  known  amongst 
their  neighbours,  and  that  they  may  have  liberty  to  declare  their  wants  and 
receive  broken  bread  and  meat  or  other  charity  from  well-disposed  people, 
that  it  be  therefore  permitted  to  those  whose  names  are  entered  in  the  poor’s 
book,  and  who  wear  the  badges  required,1  to  ask  and  receive  alms  in  their 
respective  parishes  at  certain  hours  of  the  day  to  be  appointed  by  the  guar- 
dians, but,  if  any  of  these  are  taken  begging  at  any  other  hour  than  those 
allowed,  or  out  of  their  respective  parishes,  though  within  the  same  corpo- 
ration, they  shall  be  sent  immediately,  if  they  are  under  fourteen  years  ol 
age,  to  the  working  school  to  be  whipped,  and,  if  they  are  above  fourteen, 
to  the  house  of  correction,  to  remain  there  six  weeks  and  so  much  longer  as 
till  the  next  quarter-sessions  after  the  said  six  weeks  are  expired. 

“ That,  if  any  person  die  for  want  of  due  relief  in  any  parish  in  which 
he  ought  to  be  relieved,  the  said  parish  be  fined  according  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  fact  and  the  heinousness  of  the  crime. 

“ That  every  master  of  the  king’s  ships  shall  be  bound  to  receive  without 
money,  once  every  year  (if  offered  him  by  the  magistrate  or  other  officer  of 
any  place  withiu  the  bounds  of  the  port  where  his  ship  shall  be),  one  boy, 


1 A law  passed  shortly  before  Locke’s  preparation  of  this  document 
(8  and  9 William  III.,  cap.  30),  chiefly  to  make  new  arrangements  for  the 
settlement  and  removal  of  paupers,  and  for  the  apprenticeship  of  pauper- 
children,  had  stipulated  that  no  one  should  be  allowed  to  beg  who  did  not 
wear  the  distinctive  badge  of  the  parish  to  which  he  belonged. 


1697.  "1 

.act.  05.  J 


locke’s  poor-law  scheme. 


391 


sound  of  limb,  above  thirteen  years  of  age,  who  shall  be  his  apprentice  for 
nine  years.”1 

To  understand  that  very  comprehensive  scheme,  we 
must  remember  that  the  poor-laws  of  Queen  Elizabeth’s 
reign  and  the  minor  laws  by  which  they  were  supplemented 
during  the  ensuing  century,  had  all  been  based  on  the 
assumption  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  parish  to  look  after 
its  own  paupers,  to  maintain  those  who  cannot  work,  to  find 
employment  for  those  who  can  work  and  to  compel  them  to 
perform  it,  to  put  pauper  children  in  the  ways  of  earning 
their  own  livelihoods,  and  to  draft  off  all  vagrant  paupers 
to  the  places  of  their  birth  and  settlement.  Locke  had  to 
build  on  these  bases,  and,  though  there  is  no  reason  for 
supposing  that  he  saw  anything  to  object  to  or  anything 
but  the  highest  political  wisdom  in  having  an  immense 
state-machinery  of  work-houses  in  which  or  in  connection 
with  which  all  the  poor  could  labour  if  they  liked,  and 
should  be  compelled  to  labour  if  they  did  not  find  other 
and  more  profitable  employment  for  themselves,  his  elabo- 
rate proposals  in  this  respect  were  designed  only  to  give 
an  efficient  development  to  clearly  defined  and  often- 
asserted  principles  of  legislation.  The  theory  of  state 
work-houses  wTas  provided  for  him  : all  the  detailed 
proposals  for  making  them  useful  institutions,  and  espe- 
cially for  supplementing  them  by  working  schools  for 
poor  children,  were  his  own,  or  adapted  from  the  experi- 
ments and  speculations  of  such  practical  philanthropists 
as  his  friends  Thomas  Eirmin  and  John  Cary.  Whatever 
we  may  think  of  the  theory,  it  must  certainly  be  admitted 
that  he  showed  amazing  shrewdness  and  excellent  philan- 
thropy in  his  working  out  of  the  details,  and  it  may  be 
fairly  assumed  that,  had  his  projects  been  adopted  and 
1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Domestic,  bundle  B,  no.  6. 


392 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


improved  upon  by  more  expert  law-framers,  and  honestly 
enforced  by  competent  administrators  of  the  law,  English 
pauperism  might  have  been  checked  if  not  well-nigh 
extirpated,  or  at  any  rate  that  the  country  would  have  been 
spared  that  steady  and  rapid  growth  of  social  degradation 
which  the  poor-law  reformers  of  1834  were  only  able  very 
partially  to  correct. 

Though  Locke  was  not  able  to  support  his  scheme 
while  it  was  being  discussed  by  his  colleagues  in  the 
commission  of  trade,  they  appear  to  have  substantially 
adopted  it  in  the  report  which  they  made  to  the  lords 
justices  on  the  23rd  of  December,  1697. 1 The  lords  justices, 
however,  do  not  seem  to  have  taken  any  notice  of  this 
document.  Perhaps  it  was  lost  in  the  great  fire  that 
made  terrible  havoc  at  Whitehall  on  the  4th  of  J anuary, 
and  the  subject  was  thus  lost  sight  of.2  It  was  not 
revived  at  any  rate  until  June,  1699,  when  the  lords 
justices  called  for  a new  report.  In  consequence  of 
that  instruction,  after  some  days’  discussion,  a copy  of 
Locke’s  original  scheme,  with  a few  verbal  alterations, 
was  sent  on  on  the  20th  of  July,3  only,  however,  to 
be  again  laid  aside.  King  William’s  advisers  apparently 
thought  the  scheme  too  large  to  be  seriously  consi- 
dered, or,  if  they  themselves  approved  of  it,  involving 
questions  so  wide  and  changes  so  considerable  that  they 
did  not  venture  to  submit  it  to  the  quarrelsome  and 

1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  B,  pp.  378,  379. 

2 On  this  occasion  the  meeting-place  of  the  commissioners  of  trade  was 
destroyed,  and  only  some  of  its  records  were  saved  by  the  prompt  energy  of 
Popple,  who  conveyed  them  to  his  own  house,  where  the  commissioners 
generally  met  until  the  2nd  of  March,  1697-8,  when  more  suitable  offices 
were  fitted  up  at  the  Cockpit,  in  which  they  established  themselves  for  some 
time. 

3 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  D,  pp.  79,  80,  119,  121,  124,  127. 


fflt.765-6?:]  retirement  from  the  council  of  trade.  393 

discontented  parliament  that  had  met  in  1698.  A less 
ambitious  work  in  which  Locke,  being  ill  at  Oates,  took 
no  part,  having  for  its  object  the  consolidation  of  all 
existing  poor-laws,  was  undertaken  in  the  following  Feb- 
ruary, and  on  the  13th  of  March  a draft  bill  to  this  effect, 
put  forward  by  the  commissioners,  was  laid  before  the 
house  of  commons.1  Neither  this  bill,  however,  nor  a 
hill  embodying  some  of  Locke’s  suggestions  which  was 
introduced  in  1705,  was  adopted;  and  until  1834  suc- 
cessive cabinets  and  parliaments  were  satisfied  with 
patchwork  legislation,  very  insufficient  where  not  very 
mischievous,  as  regards  paupers  and  pauperism. 

During  the  delays  incident  to  his  own  scheme  of  poor- 
law  reform,  Locke  continued,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  to 
devote  himself  to  the  general  work  of  the  commission  of 
trade  and  plantations ; but  of  this  a complete  account 
would  be  tedious.  Having  been  in  constant  attendance 
throughout  five  months  in  1696,  four  months  in  1697, 
three  months  in  1698,  and  five  months  in  1699,  he  at- 
tended for  only  five  weeks  in  1700.  His  first  appearance, 
after  the  winter,  was  on  the  17th  of  May.  On  Monday, 
the  28tlr  of  June,  as  we  read  in  the  minutes  of  the  council, 
“ Mr.  Locke  acquainted  the  board  that,  finding  his  health 
more  and  more  impaired  by  the  air  of  this  city,  so  that  he 
is  not  able  henceforward  to  make  any  continued  residence 
in  it  and  attend  the  service  of  this  commission  as  is 
requisite,  he  had  been  yesterday  to  wait  upon  the  king, 
and  desired  his  majesty’s  leave  to  lay  down  his  place  in 
this  commission,  and  that  he  therefore  came  now  to  take 
leave  of  the  board;  and  so  withdrew.”  2 

1 Board  of  Trade  Papers,  Journal  D,  p.  404;  Journals  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  vol.  v.,  p.  13. 

2 Ibid.,  Journal  D,  p.  94.  Matthew  Prior  was  appointed  in  his  stead. 


394 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XIII. 


“ He  acquitted  himself  in  this  place  with  great  appro- 
bation of  all  men,”  said  Lady  Masham,  “till  the  year 
1700  ; but  then,  on  account  of  not  being  able  to  stay  in 
London  so  long  as  he  was  wont  to  do,  he  laid  it  down 
without  saying  anything  to  any  one  till  he  had  surrendered 
his  commission  to  the  king,  who  very  unwillingly  received 
it,  telling  him  that,  were  his  attendance  ever  so  small,  he 
was  sensible  his  continuance  in  the  commission  would  be 
useful  to  him,  and  that  he  did  not  desire  he  should  be 
one  day  in  town  on  that  account  to  the  prejudice  of  his 
health  ; but  he  told  the  king  he  could  not  be  satisfied  to 
hold  a place  of  that  profit  without  giving  more  attendance 
on  it  than  he  was  able,  and  humbly  therefore  begged  to 
be  discharged  from  that  service ; which  was  the  last 
public  service  he  undertook.”1 


While  Locke  was  taking  part  in  the  reform  of  the 
currency,  and  during  the  four  years  of  his  zealous  work 
as  a commissioner  of  trade  and  plantations,  his  relations 
with  King  William  and  his  chief  advisers  were  very 
intimate.  Whether  he  was  often  at  court,  paying  his 
respects  to  both  king  and  queen,  before  Mary’s  death,  and 
afterwards  to  William  alone,  we  are  not  told ; but  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  his  friendship  was  sought  after 
and  prized  by  the  sovereigns,  who,  if  they  did  not 
cultivate  such  coarse  society  as  Charles  the  Second  and 
James  the  Second  had  found  pleasure  in,  had  learnt  at 
the  Hague  that  kingly  dignity  is  only  enhanced  by 
free  and  genial  intercourse  with  men  of  worth.  “ This 
I may  say,  as  having  had  it  from  those  to  whom  his 


i 


1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 
Jan.,  1704-5. 


ife!;]  AN  OFFER  OF  FRESH  WORK.  395 

majesty  expressed  so  much,”  wrote  Lady  Masliam,  “ that, 
whatever  opportunities  Mr.  Locke  had  had  of  making 
himself  so  well  known  to  him,  the  king  had  a very  great 
opinion  of  him  as  a wise  and  an  honest  man.”  1 

One  instance  of  William’s  great  opinion  of  Locke  had 
very  disastrous  consequences.  He  does  not  appear,  until 
1700,  to  have  renewed  the  request  for  permission  to  retire 
horn  the  hoard  of  trade  which  he  had  made  in  January, 
1696-7 ; hut  the  worse  health  in  which  he  found  himself 
at  the  following  Christmas  time  would  have  afforded  ample 
excuse  for  such  a proposal,  especially  after  an  increase 
of  his  illness,  of  which  the  king  was  unintentionally  the 
cause.  He  had  been  kept  close  prisoner  within  doors  at 
Oates  for  more  than  a month  wThen,  on  the  23rd  of 
January,  1697-8,  to  his  surprise  he  received  an  urgent 
summons  from  King  William  to  present  himself  at 
once  at  Kensington.  It  was  a dismal  winter  morning, 
cold  and  raw.  Lady  Masliam  begged  him  to  send  back 
the  messenger  with  word  that  he  was  too  ill  to  make  the 
journey.  But  he  insisted  upon  going  : the  king  would 
not  send  for  him  if  he  did  not  want  him ; and  if  there 
was  any  work  for  him  to  do,  he  must  try  to  do  it.  So 
he  rode  through  snowr  and  wind  in  the  coach  that 
had  been  despatched  for  him.  On  Monday  afternoon  he 
returned,  more  dead  than  alive.  As  soon  as  he  was  well 
enough  to  answer  Lady  Masham’s  question  as  to  the 
business  for  which  he  had  been  summoned,  all  the  answer 
she  could  get  from  him  was  that  “ the  king  had  a desire 
to  talk  with  him  about  his  own  health,  as  believing  that 
there  was  much  similitude  in  their  cases”2  and  all  the 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12 
Jan.,  1704-5. 

4 Ibid. 


396 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  XITI. 


particulars  his  friends  could  afterwards  obtain  were  that 
he  had  advised  his  majesty,  whenever  his  asthma  was 
troublesome,  to  abstain  from  wine  and  heavy  feeding.1 
These  answers  were  doubtless  true  as  far  as  they  went, 
and  they  told  all  that  Locke  felt  himself  justified  in  tell- 
ing ; hut  they  were  only  a part  of  the  truth,  and  they 
occasioned  in  the  minds  of  Lady  Masham  and  some  of 
his  other  friends  a prejudice  against  King  William  which 
was  not  altogether  warranted. 

What  was  the  real  motive  of  the  untimely  summons  to 
Locke  is  nowhere  recorded ; but  a tolerably  safe  guess 
can  he  made.  The  peace  of  Kyswick  had  been  ratified  in 
November,  1697,  and  thereby  had  been  triumphantly  termi- 
nated the  long  struggle  of  William  of  Orange  and  pro- 
testantism  and  liberty  against  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  Catho- 
licism and  tyranny.  A special  ambassador  had  to  be  sent 
to  France,  and,  after  careful  consideration,  it  was  decided 
early  in  January  that  this  office  should  he  filled  by  the 
king’s  most  trusted  and  trustworthy  friend,  William 
Bentinck,  Earl  of  Portland,  and  that  he  should  be  at- 
tended by  a suite  fit  to  represent  the  dignity  of  England 
in  Paris.  Of  courtiers  there  were  plenty  eager  to  join  the 
embassy,  and  a goodly  show  of  them  was  wanted ; but 
there  was  more  need  and  less  supply  of  honest  men  to  aid 
the  ambassador — a Dutchman,  and,  however  shrewd  and 
worthy,  not  well  versed  in  English  politics  or  institutions 
- — in  doing  wisely  the  serious  work  that  had  to  be  done. 
Was  Locke  fastened  upon  as  the  best  person  to  go  as 
Portland’s  right-hand  man?  That  seems  to  be  a fair 
surmise  when  we  remember  how  anxious  the  king  had 
been,  nine  years  before,  that  he  should  go  as  ambassador 
to  the  court  of  the  elector  of  Brandenburg,  and  how  many 
1 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke,’  in  the  ‘ Bibliotheque  Choisie.’ 


ISSUE  OF  THE  KING’S  PROPOSAL. 


397 


1697-8."] 

Ml.  65.J 

fresh  proofs  had  since  been  furnished  of  his  wonderful 
honesty  and  wonderful  ability ; and  on  no  other  supposi- 
tion can  we  so  well  understand  the  only  document  we 
have  to  throw  any  light  on  the  mystery. 

This  document  is  a letter  addressed  by  Locke,  on  the 
Thursday  after  his  return  to  Oates,  to  his  friend  Somers, 
now  lord  chancellor,  referring  in  very  guarded  terms 
to  the  public  business  on  hand,  hut  stating  with  painful 
precision  some  of  its  personal  concomitants,  as  a sequel 
to  an  interview  between  them  on  the  previous  Saturday. 
“ Sunday,  in  the  evening,”  Locke  here  wrote,  “ after  I 
had  waited  on  the  king,  I went  to  wait  on  your  lordship,  it 
being,  I understood,  his  majesty’s  pleasure  I should  do  so 
before  I returned  hither.  My  misfortune  in  missing  your 
lordship  I hoped  to  repair  by  an  early  diligence  the  next 
morning,  but  the  night  that  came  between  destroyed  that 
purpose,  and  me  almost  with  it.  For,  when  I was  laid  in 
my  bed,  my  breath  failed  me.  I was  fain  to  sit  up  in  my 
bed,  where  I continued  a good  part  of  the  night,  with 
hopes  that  my  shortness  of  breath  would  abate,  and  my 
lungs  grow  so  good-natured  as  to  let  me  lie  down  to  get  a 
little  sleep,  whereof  I had  great  need.  But  my  breath 
constantly  failing  me  as  often  as  I laid  my  head  upon  my 
pillow,  at  three  I got  up,  and  sat  by  the  fire  till  morning. 
My  case  being  brought  to  this  extremity,  there  was  no 
room  for  any  other  thought  but  to  get  out  of  town  imme- 
diately ; for,  after  the  two  precedent  nights  without  any 
rest,  I concluded  the  agonies  I laboured  under  so  long  in 
the  second  of  those  would  hardly  fail  to  be  my  death  the 
third,  if  I stayed  in  town.  As  bad  weather,  therefore,  as 
it  was,  I was  forced  early  on  Monday  morning  to  set  out 
and  return  hither.  His  majesty  was  so  favourable  as  to 
propose  the  employment  your  lordship  mentioned;  but 


398 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  ST1L 


the  true  knowledge  of  my  own  weak  state  of  health  made 
me  beg  his  majesty  to  think  of  some  fitter  person,  and 
more  able,  to  serve  him  in  that  important  post ; to  which 
I added  my  want  of  experience  for  such  business.  That 
you  may  not  think  this  an  expression  barely  of  modesty, 
I crave  leave  to  explain  it  to  you,  though  there  I discover 
my  weakness,  that  my  temper,  always  shy  of  a crowd  of 
strangers,  has  made  my  acquaintances  few,  and  my  con- 
versation too  narrow  and  particular  to  get  the  skill  of 
dealing  with  men  in  their  various  humours  and  drawing 
out  their  secrets.  Whether  this  was  a fault  or  no  to  a 
man  that  designed  no  bustle  in  the  world,  I know  not.  I 
am  sure  it  will  let  you  see  that  I am  too  much  a novice  in 
the  world  for  the  employment  proposed.”  “ The  king,” 
Locke  added,  “was  graciously  pleased  to  order  me  to  go  into 
the  country  to  take  care  of  my  health.  These  four  or  five 
days  here  have  given  me  a proof  to  what  a low  state  my 
lungs  are  now  brought,  and  how  little  they  can  bear  the 
least  shock.  I can  lie  down  again,  indeed,  in  my  bed, 
and  take  my  rest ; but,  bating  that,  I find  the  impression 
of  these  two  days  in  London  so  heavy  upon  me  still, 
which  extends  further  than  the  painfulness  of  breathing 
and  makes  me  listless  to  everything,  so  that  methinks  the 
writing  this  letter  has  been  a great  performance.  My  lord, 
I should  not  trouble  you  with  an  account  of  the  prevail- 
ing decays  of  an  old  pair  of  lungs,  were  it  not  my  duty  to 
take  care  his  majesty  should  not  he  disappointed,  and, 
therefore,  that  he  lay  not  any  expectation  on  that  which, 
to  my  great  misfortune  every  way,  I find  would  certainly 
fail  him ; and  I must  beg  your  lordship,  for  the  interest 
of  the  public,  to  prevail  with  his  majesty  to  think  on 
somebody  else,  since  I do  not  only  fear,  but  am  sure,  my 
broken  health  will  never  permit  me  to  accept  the  great 


jMt.^65.]  ISSUE  OF  THE  KING’S  PROPOSAL.  399 

honour  Ms  majesty  meant  me.  As  it  would  be  unpardon- 
able to  betray  the  king’s  business,  by  undertaking  what  I 
should  be  unable  to  go  through,  so  it  would  be  the  greatest 
madness  to  put  myself  out  of  the  reach  of  my  friends 
during  the  small  time  I am  to  linger  in  this  world,  only  to 
die  a little  more  rich  or  a little  more  advanced.  He  must 
have  a heart  strongly  touched  with  wealth  or  honours 
who,  at  my  age,  and  labouring  for  breath,  can  find  any 
great  relish  for  either  of  them.”1 

It  is  clear,  at  any  rate,  that  Locke  was  summoned  to 
town,  not  to  advise  the  king  about  his  asthma,  but  to 
receive  an  offer  of  some  important  employment,  from 
which  he  with  difficulty  excused  himself,  modestly  on  the 
score  of  his  unfitness  for  the  work,  seriously  on  the  score 
of  his  broken  health.  Two  passages  in  Locke’s  corre- 
spondence with  Limborch,  moreover,  furnish  some  con- 
firmation of  the  surmise  that  the  public  work  on  which 
King  William  was  so  anxious  to  engage  him  had  to  do 
with  the  embassy  to  France,  and,  if  that  was  the  case, 
they  also  tend  to  show  that  the  king’s  proposals  were 
renewed  in  the  autumn.  “ Our  friend  Gfuenellon,”  Lim- 
borch wrote  on  the  2nd  of  September,  after  referring  to 
some  letters  that  had  passed  between  Locke  and  Guenellon, 
“ raises  a hope  in  us  that  you  will  be  going  to  France  this 
winter  and  will  return  to  England  by  way  of  Holland.  If 
you  can  make  this  journey  without  injury  to  your  health, 
I wish  for  it  with  all  my  heart,  as  it  will  give  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  and  embracing  you  after  our  long  separa- 
tion.” 2 “ My  journey  to  France,  so  long  in  contemplation, 
is  likely  to  come  to  nothing,”  Locke  replied.3 

1 Lord  King,  p.  247 ; Locke  to  Somers,  28  Jan.,  1697-8. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  428  ; Limborch  to  Locke,  [2 — ] 12  Sept.,  1698. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  431  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  18  Oct.,  1698. 


400 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


[Chap.  X1TJ 


We  hear  no  more  of  Locke’s  public  employment  in  that 
or  any  other  new  way,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  he  resigned 
his  commissionership  of  trade  in  the  summer  of  1700  on 
the  ground  of  ill-health. 

His  ill-health  was  a very  sufficient  reason  for  the 
resignation  ; but  it  was  doubtless  insisted  upon  at  this 
time  in  consequence  of  his  evident  dissatisfaction  at  the 
progress  of  public  affairs.  The  parliament  of  1695  had 
set  itself  honestly  to  support  the  efforts  of  Somers  and  his 
party  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  country  and  promote 
the  happiness  and  well-being  of  all  classes.  The  parlia- 
ment of  1698  was  of  a different  temper.  Quarrels  soon 
began  in  it,  and  King  William,  whatever  his  wishes  and 
sympathies  may  have  been,  deemed  it  expedient  to  tem- 
porise with  the  tones  and  disloyal  whigs.  One  after 
another,  he  consented  to  the  dismissal  of  all  his  best 
counsellors  and  agents,  and  to  the  substitution  for  them 
of  worthless  place-hunters.  Somers,  almost  the  first  to 
go,  was  deprived  of  his  lord  chancellorship  on  the  17th  of 
April,  1700,  and  ten  days  afterwards  the  great  seal  was 
entrusted  to  the  two  chief  justices  and  the  chief  baron 
as  commissioners  until  the  21st  of  May,  when  Nathan 
Wright  was  appointed  lord  keeper.  What  Locke  thought 
of  Somers’s  dismissal  and  its  surroundings  may  be  gathered 
from  the  following  ‘ Letter,’  a fragment  of  very  curious  if 
not  very  poetical  verse,  which  he  must  have  written  in 
or  near  the  first  week  in  May.  In  it  the  Earl  of  Sunder- 
land is  referred  to  as  “ the  count.” 

“ Having  thank’d  me  so  much  for  the  news  in  my  last, 

This  serves  to  acquaint  you  with  what  has  since  passed. 

The  count,  who  lives  in  (but  not  on)  the  square, 

Was  summon’d  last  week  to  the  court  to  repair, 

Where  he  found  the  sad  king  to  his  closet  retreated, 

More  pensive  than  when  at  Landen  defeated. 


iroo.  i 
JEt.  67. J 


A LETTER  IN  VERSE. 


401 


* Good  sir,’  said  the  count,  ‘ what  is  your  command  ? 

Your  affairs,  I am  told,  are  all  at  a stand.’ 

‘ Sacrament ! ’ swore  the  monarch,  ‘ you  have  me  undone, — 
And  hast  been  a traitor  to  father  and  son.  ’ 

‘ Dread  sir,’  said  the  count,  ‘ though  the  proverb  be  true, 
Yet  ’tis  very  hard  to  be  quoted  by  you  : 

Betraying  the  father  my  conscience  does  sting, 

But  you,  by  that  treason,  were  made  Britain’s  king  ! ’ 

The  monarch,  surprised  with  such  a sharp  touch, 

And  sensible  of  so  just  a reproach, 

Said,  ‘ Fear  not,  my  lord  ; I no  secrets  reveal. 

Let  me  know  how  you  like  my  dispose  of  the  seal  ? ’ 

‘ Not  at  all,’  said  the  count.  ‘ It  is  given  to  those 
Who  to  absolute  monarchs  are  all  sworn  foes, 

Men  learn’d  in  the  law,  but  honest  and  brave, 

Who  the  guiltless  won’t  hang,  nor  the  guilty  will  save. 

And  such  as  will  never  the  people  enslave  ; 

That  work’s  to  he  done  by  Methuen  my  knave.’ 

* The  seal,’  said  the  king,  ‘ was  to  judges  committed. 

Till  I with  a man  for  my  turn  could  be  fitted  ; 

And  now  you  may  guess  if  or  no  I have  hit  it. 

I’ve  pleas’d  a few  lawyers  ; but  the  rest  of  the  nation 
I hear  do  talk  high  of  a new  abdication. 

Turning  out  of  lord  chanc’llor,  I confess,  I repent : 

But  since  it  is  done,  whate’er  be  th’  event, 

I never  will  do  like  hen-hearted  James, 

Run  away,  and  throw  my  great  seal  in  the  Thames. 

I intended  t’  have  given  it  the  man  you  were  for, 

Your  Lillyburlero  Irish  chancellor  ; 

But,  he  having  bred  his  son  at  Saint  Omers, 

I must  not  let  Methuen  succeed  my  Lord  Somers.’ 

The  count,  growing  pale,  said,  ‘ Then  must  I swear, 

The  mob  have  no  mercy  on  those  in  their  power. 

I have  sent  my  son  Spencer  to  tell  all  the  town 
The  remove  of  the  seal  I lament  and  disown  ; 

’Twas  not  from  my  lord  taken,  himself  laid  it  down ; 

A better  lord  chancellor  never  was  known. 

But  all  the  town  says  my  son ’s  a court  spy, 

And  therefore  lay  wager  what  he  says  is  a lie. 

Vol.  II. — 26 


402 


IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  STATE. 


LChap.  XIII 


The  removing  the  seal  I advis’d  and  design’d. 

Yet,  since  you  do  know  it  was  your  own  mind, 

To  deny  ’twas  my  counsel.  Pray,  sir,  be  so  kind, 

To  lie  for  your  service : you  ’ll  me  ready  find.’ 

' My  lord,’  said  the  king,  ‘ too  late  I have  found 
By  following  your  counsels  I daily  lose  ground 
In  the  people’s  affections.  Their  murmurs  require 
That  you  and  your  son  from  the  court  should  retire.’ 

‘ Leave  the  court ! ’ said  the  count : ‘ that  sure ’s  very  hard  ; 
And  for  all  my  service  no  grateful  reward  ! 

A minister  ought  not  to  he  valued  the  less, 

If  his  cunning  schemes  meet  not  with  success. 

An  able  lord  chancellor  may,  without  doubt, 

For  reasons  of  state  sometimes  be  turn’d  out. 

When  princes  would  absolute  be  on  the  throne, 

They  must  trust  their  conscience  with  those  that  have  none, 
And  when  their  subjects  deserve  to  be  slaves, 

Turn  out  honest  ministers  and  prefer  knaves.’ 

‘ My  lord,’  said  the  king,  ‘ if  these  maxims  be  true, 

The  great  seal  should  have  been  bestow’d  upon  you ; 

But  still  all  these  measures  are  false  or  unsafe, 

And  Montagu’s  offers  are  greater  by  half. 

That  mushroom-projector  has  far  outdone  you, 

And  did  undertake  things  you  never  durst  do. 

Would  I govern  by  force,  he’d  an  army  provide 
That  I might  the  three  kingdoms  like  packliorses  ride  ; 

He  heading  his  tools  (like  some  Turkish  bashaw) 

The  old  company  broke  against  justice  and  law  ; 

But,  that  he  might  ne’er  prove  more  faithful  than  you, 

Ho  basely  betray’d  his  dear  friends  of  the  new  ; 

By  factions  and  clubs  he’d  our  ferments  abate, 

And  pay  the  national  debts  with  Duncombe’s  estate. 

In  fact,  there’s  no  fence  he  would  not  break  thorough, 

Puts  me  on  one  thing  to-day,  on  another  to-morrow, 

Till  the  insolent,  vain,  and  impolitic  elf 
Would  make  me  as  abject  and  mean  as  himself. 

But,  my  lord,  that  for  once  my  whole  mind  you  may  know, 
Pray  mark  well  the  truths  I’m  now  going  to  show  ; — 
Pembroke  and  Lansdowne,  Godolphin  and  Lory, 


1700.  ~\ 
Mt.  67.  J 


A LETTER  IN  VERSE. 


403 


Shrewsbury,  Rumney  and  Leeds,  whig  and  tory, 

My  Keppel  and  Portland,  with  such  foreign  slaves, 

Are  unthinking  proud  fools  or  poor  tricking  knaves  ; 

Ranelagh,  Brathwayte,  and  Boyle  I’ll  skip  o’er, 

Lest  they  smuggle  the  little  that ’s  yet  left  in  store, 

Or,  like  my  Lord  Oxford,  make  up  their  accounts, 

Though  his  cowardly  baseness  their  cheating  surmounts. 

Grim  Coningsby  should  be  secure  from  all  pasquill, 

Since  none  can  express  all  the  crimes  of  that  rascal, 

Who  by  murder  makes  Gafney  in  annals  take  place 
An  act  well  becoming  his  poisoning  grace. 

All  my  train  are  reproach’d  with  true  jests  and  tart  jibes  ; 

E’en  Somers  is  branded  with  pensions  and  bribes, 

But  chiefly  for  keeping  of  other  men’s  wives, 

And  favouring  persons  of  dissolute  lives. 

Vernon ’s  by  all  men  believed  a mere  tool, 

And  Jersey ’s  acknowledg’d  t’  have  ne’er  been  to  school ’n 


1 Shaftesbury  Papers,  series  viii.,  no.  29.  I have  not  thought  it  necessary 
to  explain  the  various  allusions  in  the  text.  They  will  be  understood  by 
any  one  tolerably  acquainted  with  political  history  during  the  last  few  years 
of  William  the  Third’s  reign. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

CoNTEOVEBSY  : LaTEE  WeITINGS. 

[1696—1700.] 

URING  most  of  the  years  in  which  Locke  held  his 


office  in  the  council  of  trade  and  plantations  he 
had  to  defend  himself  from  repeated  attacks,  first  on  £ The 
Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  and  afterwards  on  the 
‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  and  in  so 
doing  to  take  a prominent  part  in  the  great  war  of  words 
between  trinitarians  and  anti-trinitarians,  latitudinarians 
and  dogmatists,  which  was  waged  in  England  during  the 
last  decade  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  controversy  was  greatly  encouraged,  if  not  started, 
by  ‘ The  Naked  Gospel,’  a work  written  by  Arthur  Bury, 
but  published  anonymously  in  1690.  Love  to  God  and 
love  to  man  were  here  set  forth  as  the  great  rules  of  fife 
which  Christ  came  to  enforce,  and,  when  made  real  and 
lasting  by  faith  in  Christ  and  a hearty  repentance,  the 
only  conditions  of  salvation.  Eaith  in  Christ  was  shown 
to  consist  solely  in  loyal  devotion  to  him  as  the  great 
teacher  and  exemplar  of  virtue,  and  was  entirely  divested 
of  doctrinal  questions  and  speculative  dogmas.  All 
inquiry  concerning  the  incarnation  of  Christ  or  his 
relations  to  God,  Bury  regarded  as  “ impertinent  to  the 
design  of  Christianity,  fruitless  and  dangerous,”  that 


1696.  *1 
jEt.  63.  J 


THE  TRINITARIAN  CONTROVERSY. 


405 


design  being  nothing  but  the  restoration  of  human  nature 
to  its  original  purity,  that  is,  the  reconciliation  between 
God  and  man.  It  is  not  strange  that  this  audacious  book 
should  have  been  publicly  burnt  at  Oxford  a few  months 
after  its  publication  : but  that  proceeding  only  increased 
its  popularity,  and  strengthened  the  Unitarian  movement 
that  was  just  now  acquiring  force  under  the  leadership  of 
Locke’s  friend,  Thomas  Fir  min. 

Firmin  was  not,  it  would  appear,  himself  the  author  of 
any  of  the  numerous  tracts  published  at  his  charge 
between  1689  and  1695  ; but  he  obtained,  the  help  of  able 
writers  for  his  anonymous  publications,  and  by  them 
succeeded  in  stirring  up  all  sorts  of  rival  attacks  from 
the  various  sects  of  trinitarians  and  tritheists  then 
included  m the  church  of  England,  and  in  thus  setting 
his  antagonists  to  overthrow  one  another.  Dr.  Wallis, 
Locke’s  old  teacher,  urged  that  it  is  as  natural  and  neces- 
sary that  there  should  be  three  “ somewhats  ” — he 
objected  to  the  term  “ persons  ” — in  one  God  as  that 
there  should  be  three  dimensions,  length,  breath  and 
height.  He  was  too  kind-hearted  to  venture  upon  much 
justification  of  the  damnatory  clauses  of  the  Athanasian 
creed;  but  Dr.  Sherlock  proved  to  his  own  satisfaction 
that  “none  but  believing  Christians  are  in  a state  of 
salvation,  however  morally  virtuous  their  lives  may  be,” 
while  he  offered  some  assistance  to  “ believing  Christians  ” 
by  defining  the  Trinity  to  be  “ three  persons  intimately 
united  to  each  other  in  one  undivided  substance,”  three 
infinite  minds  distinct  from  one  another,  but  joined  in 
one  by  their  common  nature ; there  being  three  persons, 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  in  one  Godhead,  just  as 
there  may  be  three  persons,  Peter,  James,  and  John,  in 
one  manhood.  Dr.  South,  Locke’s  ribald  schoolfellow  of 


406  CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS.  (Chap.  xrv. 

nearly  fifty  years  ago,  went  even  nearer  to  unitarianism 
than  Wallis,  though  he  was  not  the  less  bitter  against  it 
on  that  account ; but  his  bitterest  attack  was  against  Sher- 
lock’s treatise,  which,  at  his  instigation,  was  publicly 
condemned  by  the  university  of  Oxford,  in  November, 
1695,  he  having  brought  appropriate  logic  to  bear  upon 
the  authorities  when  he  urged  them  to  withstand  the 
progress  of  “ deism,  socinianism,  tritheism,”  and  every 
other  form  of  heresy,  “ lest  they  should  fall  from  ecclesi- 
astical grace  and  the  door  of  preferment  should  be  shut 
against  them.” 

That  was  the  state  of  the  controversy — as  far  as  very 
brief  allusion  to  a few  tracts  and  treatises  can  indicate 
the  purport  of  a hundred  or  more — when  Locke  published 
his  ‘ Reasonableness  of  Christianity.’  He  there  carefully 
kept  out  of  the  trinitarian  debate,  and  mentioned  none 
of  those  who  had  taken  part  in  it.  His  main  business, 
like  that  of  Bury  in  ‘ The  Naked  Gospel,’  was  to  steer 
clear  of  all  dogmas  and  show  how  the  gospel  of  Christ 
was  simply  and  solely  a gospel  of  love  and  redemption, 
how  the  Messiah  came,  not  to  perplex  any  one  with  unin- 
telligible creeds  and  impracticable  rules  of  life,  but  to 
supplement  the  law  of  nature  and  the  law  of  reason  by  a 
gracious  evidence  of  the  way  in  which  men  might  save 
themselves  from  death  and  annihilation,  and  win  for 
themselves  the  eternal  life  of  happiness  that  had  been 
forfeited  by  Adam.  He  differed  alike  from  those  who 
“ would  have  all  Adam’s  posterity  doomed  to  eternal 
infinite  punishment  for  the  transgression  of  Adam,  whom 
millions  had  never  heard  of  and  no  one  had  authorised  to 
transact  for  him  or  be  his  representative,”  and  from  those 
to  whom  “ this  seemed  so  little  consistent  with  the  justice 
or  goodness  of  the  great  and  infinite  God  that  they 


1696.  "I 
■St.  63.  J 


EDWAKDS'S  ATTACKS  ON  LOCKE. 


407 


thought  there  was  no  redemption  necessary,  and  conse- 
quently that  there  was  none,  and  so  made  Jesus  Christ 
nothing  but  the  restorer  and  preacher  of  pure  natural 
religion,  thereby  doing  violence  to  the  whole  tenour  of 
the  New  Testament.” 1 He  was  thus  more  orthodox 
than  Bury,  the  churchman,  and  many  church  of  England 
divines.  His  work,  however,  was  the  most  powerful 
apology  for  rational  theology  that  had  been  made  since 
the  publication  of  ‘ The  Naked  Gospel,’  all  the  more 
powerful  because  it  was  entirely  free  alike  from  vulgar 
personality  and  from  every  sort  of  scholastic  quibble. 

As  we  have  seen,  it  was  at  once  assailed  by  John 
Edwards,  a very  contemptible  antagonist,  whose  language 
unfortunately  induced  him  to  indulge  in  personalities, 
though  they  were  not  vulgar ; and  Edwards’s  disclosure  of 
the  fact  that  the  anonymous  ‘ Reasonableness  of  Chris- 
tianity’ was  written  by  the  author  of  the  ‘ Essay  concern- 
ing Human  Understanding,’  if  it  gave  a new  importance 
to  the  work,  compelled  him  to  take  a larger  share  than  he 
otherwise  might  have  taken  in  the  subsequent  controversy, 
and  was  at  least  one  cause  of  the  opposition  that  soon 
came  to  be  offered  to  the  ‘ Essay  ’ itself. 

Edwards’s  strictures,  in  ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning 
Atheism,’  having  been  published  in  the  autumn  of  1695, 
and  quickly  met  by  Locke’s  short  ‘ Vindication  ’ as  well 
as  by  an  anonymous  pamphlet  entitled  1 The  Excep- 
tion of  Mr.  Edwards  against  “The  Reasonableness  of 
Christianity  ” Examined,’  he  lost  no  time  in  replying  to 
both  tracts  in  another  entitled  ‘ Socinianism  Unmasked,’ 
the  introduction  to  which  was  dated  January,  1695-6. 
Here,  with  a profusion  of  scurrilous  abuse  and  clever 
falsification,  he  charged  Locke  over  and  over  again  with 
1 ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  p.  6. 


408 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


declaring  that  a belief  in  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus  was 
the  only  thing  required  from  Christians — in  perversion  of 
Locke’s  assertion  that  it  was  the  only  article  of  faith 
required  as  a condition  of  endeavouring  to  participate  in 
the  joys  and  duties  of  a Christian  life — and,  thus  confining 
himself  to  a personal  attack  on  the  author  of  ‘ The 
Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  sought  to  divert  attention 
from  the  work  itself.  Locke’s  real  views  he  did  not 
attempt  to  controvert ; all  he  aimed  at  was  to  bring  him 
into  discredit,  or  rather  perhaps  to  win  some  credit  for 
himself  by  seeming  to  have  detected  a foolish  and  narrow- 
minded Socinian  in  so  eminent  a man  as  Locke.  Locke, 
for  some  time,  took  no  notice  of  this  treatise.  “ A cause,” 
he  said,  “ that  stands  in  need  of  falsehoods  to  support  it, 
and  an  adversary  that  wall  make  use  of  them,  deserve 
nothing  but  contempt,  which,  I doubt  not  but  every  con- 
siderate reader  thought  answer  enough  to  Mr.  Edwards’s 
4 Socinianism  Unmasked.’  ” 1 It  is  a pity  he  did  not  hold 
to  that  opinion,  especially  as  Samuel  Bolde,  a Dorsetshire 
clergyman,  unknown  to  him,  promptly  came  to  his  assist- 
ance, and,  in  some  concise  but  pertinent  ‘Animadversions,’ 
showed  the  worthlessness  of  Edwards’s  attack.2  His 
anger  was  aroused,  however,  by  the  taunts  and  aggravated 
misrepresentations  contained  in  Edwards’s  next  work, 
‘ The  Socinian  Creed,’  and  he  wrote  a long  and  convincing, 
though  hardly  requisite  and  somewhat  tedious,  ‘ Second 
Vindication  of  “ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity.”  ’ 

1 ‘The  Second  Vindication  of  “The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity”’ 
(1736),  p.  1.  I refer  to  this,  the  fifth,  edition,  not  having  the  first  at  hand. 

2 Some  ‘Passages  in  “ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity”  and  its  “Vin- 
dication,” with  some  Animadversions ' on  Mr.  Edwards’s  “Reflections  on 
‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,”’  and  on  his  “Socinianism  Unmasked’” 
(1697),  pp.  17—52. 


locke’s  reply  to  edwards. 


409 


1*97.  1 
JEt.  61.J 

This  volume  must  have  been  published  before  May, 
1697,  as  in  that  month  Molyneux  wrote  to  say,  “If  you 
know  the  author  thereof,  as  I am  apt  to  surmise  you  may, 
be  pleased  to  let  him  know  that  I think  he  has  done 
Mr.  Edwards  too  much  honour  in  thinking  him  worth  his 
notice  ; for  so  vile  a poor  wretch  certainly  never  appeared 
in  print.  But,  at  the  same  time,  tell  him  that,  as  this 
‘ Vindication  ’ contains  a further  illustration  of  the  divine 
truths  in  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  he  has 
the  thanks  of  me  and  all  fair  candid  men  that  I converse 
with  about  it.”  1 

In  saying  that,  Molyneux  said  nearly  all  that  could  be 
said  in  commendation  of  the  hook.  Whatever  useful 
service  it  may  have  done  when  it  was  published,  it  is  to 
modern  readers  one  of  the  least  valuable  of  all  Locke’s 
writings.  Some  portions  of  it  are  of  interest,  however,  as 
helping  us  to  understand  his  system  of  religion  and 
theology,  and  his  place  among  the  controversialists  of 
his  day. 

Locke  reiterated  very  fully  and  forcibly,  and  in  one  place  very  concisely 
and  clearly,  bis  scheme  of  Christianity  : “ There  is  a faith  that  makes  men 
Christians.  This  faith  is  the  believing  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  to  be  the 
Messiah.  The  believing  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah  includes  in  it  a receiving 
him  for  our  Lord  and  King,  promised  and  sent  from  God,  and  so  lays  upon 
all  his  subjects  an  absolute  and  indispensable  necessity  of  assenting  to  all 
that  they  can  attain  of  the  knowledge  of  that  he  taught,  and  of  a sincere 
obedience  to  all  that  he  commands.”2 

Christ’s  teaching  and  commands,  he  emphatically  declared,  must  be 
sought  for  in  the  Bible,  and  there  only ; and  each  honest  seeker  must  be 


1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  218  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  15  May, 
1697. 

2 ‘ Second  Vindication,’  etc.,  p.  385.  This  summary  was  offered,  not  to 
Edwards,  but  to  another  opponent  with  whom  Locke  dealt  at  the  end  of 
his  book. 


410 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


left  to  draw  thence  such  special  rules  of  life  and  such  special  articles  of 
faith  as  he  finds  in  them.  “ If  the  reading  and  study  of  the  Scripture  were 
more  pressed  than  it  is,  and  men  were  fairly  sent  to  the  Bible  to  find  their 
religion,  and  not  the  Bible  put  into  their  hands  only  to  find  the  opinions  of 
their  particular  sect  and  party,  Christendom  would  have  more  Christians, 
and  those  that  are  would  be  more  knowing  and  more  in  the  right  than  now 
they  are.  That  which  hinders  this  is  that  select  bundle  of  doctrines  which 
it  has  pleased  every  sect  to  draw  out  of  the  Scriptures,  or  their  own  inven- 
tions, with  an  omission  of  all  the  rest.  These  ‘ choice  truths,’  as  the 
‘ unmasker  ’ calls  his,  are  to  be  the  standing  orthodoxy  of  that  party,  from 
which  none  of  that  church  must  recede  without  the  forfeiture  of  their  Chris- 
tianity and  the  loss  of  eternal  life ; but,  whilst  people  keep  firm  to  these, 
they  are  in  the  church  and  the  way  to  salvation  ; which,  in  effect,  what  is 
it  but  to  encourage  ignorance,  laziness,  and  neglect  of  the  Scriptures  ? For 
what  need  they  be  at  the  pains  of  constantly  reading  the  Bible,  or  perplex 
their  heads  with  considering  and  weighing  what  is  there  delivered,  when, 
believing  as  the  church  believes,  or  saying  after  or  not  contradicting  their 
teacher,  serves  the  turn  ? I desire  it  may  be  considered  what  name  that 
mock-show  of  recommending  to  men  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  deserves, 
if,  when  they  read  it,  they  must  understand  it  just  as  he  that  would  be 
their  master  tells  them  ? If  they  find  anything  in  the  word  of  God  that 
leads  them  into  opinions  he  does  not  allow,  if  anything  they  meet  with  in 
holy  writ  seems  to  them  to  thwart  or  shake  the  received  doctrines,  the  very 
proposing  of  their  doubts  renders  them  suspected  ; reasoning  about  them 
and  not  acquiescing  in  what  is  said  to  them  is  interpreted  want  of  due 
respect  and  deference  to  the  authority  of  their  spiritual  guides  ; disrepute 
and  censures  follow  ; and  if,  in  pursuance  of  their  own  light,  they  persist  in 
what  they  think  the  Scripture  teaches  them,  they  are  turned  out  of  the 
church,  delivered  to  Satan,  and  no  longer  allowed  to  be  Christians.  This 
is  the  consequence  of  men’s  assuming  to  themselves  a power  of  declaring 
fundamentals,  that  is,  of  setting  up  a Christianity  of  their  own  making. 
Thus  systems,  the  inventions  of  men,  are  turned  into  so  many  opposite 
gospels,  and  nothing  is  truth  in  each  sect  but  just  what  suits  with  them  ; 
so  that  the  Scripture  serves  but,  like  a nose  of  wax,  to  be  turned  and  bent 
just  as  may  fit  the  contrary  orthodoxies  of  different  societies.”1 

Locke  made  no  scruple  of  his  rejection  of  the  doctrine,  or  rather  all 
the  diverse  doctrines,  of  the  Trinity  ; he  indignantly  repudiated  the  generally 


1 ‘ Second  Vindication,’  etc.,  pp.  173 — 175. 


1697.  1 
2Et.  64.J 


CHRISTIANITY  WITH  DOGMAS. 


411 


received  notions  of  the  atonement  and  predestination,  of  original  sin  and 
everlasting  punishment ; but  he  very  properly  objected  to  being  called 
names,  partly  because  he  refused  to  acknowledge  any  other  teacher  of 
religion  than  Christ,  partly  because,  though  he  agreed  on  many  points  with 
the  members  of  many  heretical  sects,  he  differed  from  them  on  others,  and 
did  not  choose  to  be  pinned  down  to  agreement  with  them  on  any.  Most 
especially  he  objected  to  being  called  a Socinian,  as  comprehensive  and 
insulting,  a term  of  opprobrium  in  his  day  as  the  term  fanatic  had  been 
before,  or  as  the  term  atheist  was  both  before  and  after  ; and  for  this  he  had 
good  reason,  seeing  that  the  epithet  was  applied  to  him  with  the  distinct 
purpose  of  discrediting  his  opinions  in  philosophy  as  well  as  in  theology, 
and,  had  he  in  any  way  acknowledged  it,  would  have  gone  far  to  spoil  the 
influence  of  all  his  writings.  He,  therefore,  angrily  resented  the  charge 
brought  against  him  so  persistently  by  Edwards.  “ He  hopes,”  he  said, “to 
fright  people  from  reading  my  book  by  crying  out  ‘ Socinianism,  Socinian- 
ism  ! ’ I challenge  him  to  show  one  word  of  Socinianism  in  it.  But,  however, 
is  it  worth  while  to  write  a book  to  prove  me  a Socinian  ? Truly,  I did 
not  think  myself  so  considerable  that  the  world  need  be  troubled  about  me, 
whether  I were  a follower  of  Socinus,  Arminius,  Calvin,  or  any  other  leader 
of  a sect  among  Christians.  A Christian  I am  sure  I am ; because  I believe 
Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  the  King  and  Saviour  sent  by  God,  and,  as  a 
subject  of  his  kingdom,  I take  the  rule  of  my  faith  and  life  from  his  will, 
declared  and  left  upon  record  in  the  inspired  writings  of  the  apostles  and 
evangelists  in  the  New  Testament,  which  I endeavour,  to  the  utmost  of 
my  power,  as  is  my  duty,  to  understand  in  their  true  sense  and  meaning. 
To  lead  me  into  their  true  meaning  I know  no  infallible  guide  but  the  same 
Holy  Spirit  from  whom  these  writings  at  lirst  came.  If  the  ‘ unmasker  ’ 
knows  any  other  infallible  interpreter  of  Scripture,  I desire  him  to  direct 
me  to  him.  Till  then  I shall  think  it  according  to  my  Master’s  rule  not  to 
be  called,  nor  to  call  any  man  on  earth,  master.  No  man,  I think,  has  a 
right  to  prescribe  to  me  my  faith,  or  magisterially  to  impose  his  interpreta- 
tions or  opinions  on  me ; nor  is  it  material  to  any  one  what  mine  are  any 
farther  than  they  carry  their  own  evidence  with  them.”  1 

Of  all  the  railing  accusations  brought  against  him  by  Edwards,  Locke 
admitted  only  one — that  he  “ everywhere  struck  at  systems.”  “ And  I always 
shall,”  he  exclaimed,  “so  far  as  they  are  set  up  by  particular  men  or  parties, 
as  the  just  measure  of  every  man’s  faith,  wherein  everything  that  is  con- 


1 ‘Second  Vindication,’  etc.,  pp.  281,  282, 


412 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XI V. 


tained  is  required  and  imposed  to  be  believed  to  make  a man  a Christian. 
But  that  every  man  should  receive  from  others,  or  make  to  himself,  such  a 
system  of  Christianity  as  he  found  most  conformable  to  the  word  of  God, 
according  to  the  best  of  his  understanding,  is  what  I never  spoke  against, 
hut  think  it  every  one’s  duty  to  labour  for  and  to  take  all  opportunities  as 
long  as  he  lives  to  perfect.”1 

Edwards  continued  to  denounce  Locke  as  a Socinian  or 
worse,  and  lie  imported  new  grounds  of  abuse  into  a work 
that  he  must  have  written  shortly  before,  though  it  was 
not  issued  till  some  months  after,  the  publication  of  the 
‘ Second  Vindication.’  This  work  was  entitled  ‘A  Brief 
Vindication  of  the  Fundamental  Articles  of  the  Christian 
Faith,  as  also  of  the  Clergy,  Universities,  and  Public 
Schools,  from  Mr.  Locke’s  Beflections  upon  them  in  his 
Book  of  Education,  etc.,’  and  in  it,  as  the  title  implies, 
Edwards  specially,  though  by  no  means  exclusively,  set 
himself  to  condemn  Locke’s  new  views  about  teaching 
and  his  objections  to  the  methods  hitherto  in  vogue.  In 
the  dedication,  addressed  to  the  universities  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  he  referred  to  Hobbes  and  “ one  Mr. 
Locke,  who,  though  he  infinitely  comes  short  of  the  fore- 
named  person  in  parts  or  good  letters,  yet  hath  taken  the 
courage  to  tread  in  his  old  friend’s  steps  and  pnbiicly  to 
proclaim  his  dislike  of  university  men  and  to  remonstrate 
against  the  methods  they  take  in  bringing  up  of  youth.” 
He  invented  other  connections  between  Hobbes  and 
Locke.  “ When  that  writer,”  he  went  on  to  say,  “ was 
framing  a new  Christianity,  he  took  Hobbes’s  ‘ Leviathan  ’ 
for  the  New  Testament,  and  the  Philosopher  of  Malmes-, 
bury  for  our  Saviour  and  the  apostles.” 

That  insolent  dedication  and  the  harmonious  abuse 
that  followed  it  are  chiefly  noteworthy  as  further  showing 


1 ‘ Second  Vindication,’  etc.,  p.  327. 


1697.  1 
64. J 


FURTHER  ATTACKS  FROM  EDWARDS. 


413 


the  way  in  which  Locke  was  now  coming  to  be  attacked. 
Locke’s  chagrin  is  curiously  exhibited  in  an  indignant 
letter  that  he  wrote  to  a very  old  friend,  Dr.  John  Co  veil, 
now  master  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.1  Edwards, 
being  also  a Cambridge  man,  and  an  acquaintance  of 
Covell’s,  had  induced  him  to  join  with  the  vice-chancellor 
of  the  university  and  two  other  dons  in  signing  an 
“ imprimatur  ” for  the  scurrilous  work.  On  discovering 
this,  Locke  wrote  to  Covell  as  follows  : — 

“ Reverend  Sir, — I am  told  the  booksellers  in  Cambridge  have  made 
bolder  than  they  should  with  the  book  you  will  herewith  receive,  by  pasting 
a paper  over  the  author’s  epistle  to  the  bookseller.  ’Tis  pity  so  excellent  a 
treatise  as  this  is  should  lose  the  authority  and  recommendation  your  name 
gives  to  it.  I therefore  send  you  one  with  all  its  ornaments  displayed  as 
our  shops  here  afford  them,  and  you  will  do  well  to  keep  it  safe  that 
posterity  may  know,  as  well  as  this  present  age,  who  lent  his  helping  hand 
to  usher  into  the  world  so  cleanly  a piece  of  divinity,  and  such  a just  model 
of  managing  of  controversy  in  religion,  to  he  a pattern  for  the  youth  in  his 
own  college  and  in  the  rest  of  the  university  to  imitate.  This  is  all  at  pre- 
sent, till  I have  a fitter  opportunity  to  talk  with  you  about  what  the  dull 
stationer  here  made  bold  to  strike  out,  notwithstanding  it  had  the  warrant 
of  your  ‘ imprimatur.’  ’Tis  not  that  I pretend  to  be  interested  in  the 
controversy  wherein  Mr.  Edwards  is  a party  ; but,  hearing  he  had  named 
me  in  the  title  of  his  book,  I thought  myself  concerned  to  read  it,  and, 
having  perused  it,  I think  it  will  not  misbecome  our  old  acquaintance  to  do 
you  this  right.  I lay  all  those  titles  you  have  thought  me  worthy  of  at  your 
feet,  and  am,  reverend  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

“ J.  Locke.”2 

That  deservedly  sharp  rebuke  produced  an  answer  as 

1 They  were  in  Paris  together  in  1678,  and  a frequent  correspondence 
appears  to  have  passed  between  them  ; but  the  few  remains  of  it  that  are 
extant  for  the  period  before  the  date  of  the  above  letter  are  not  of  much 
interest.  Coveil  was  a great  orientalist,  and  in  other  ways  an  important 
man  in  his  day. 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  22910,  fol.  463  ; Locke  to  Coveil,  29  Sept., 

1697. 


414 


controversy:  later  writings. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


satisfactory  as  frankness  and  humility  could  make  it. 
Covell  explained  that  he  had  sanctioned  Edwards’s  book 
without  knowing  what  was  in  it.  Edwards  had  asked  for 
his  name  and  he  had  given  it,  without  inquiry,  as  to  an 
old  college  friend  whom  he  thought  he  could  trust.  “ Till 
the  book  was  printed,  I assure  you  I never  so  much  as 
saw  it  or  knew  the  least  syllable  of  its  contents,  much  less 
of  your  name.  Now  I do  confess  myself  indeed  very 
guilty  of  too  much  credulity  and  easiness  herein,  hut  not 
in  the  least  of  any  known  or  designed  disrespect  to  you. 
You  have  taught  me  hereafter  not  to  be  over  apt  too 
hastily  to  believe  the  reports  and  to  trust  the  judgments 
of  other  men.  The  vice-chancellor  himself — after  some 
high  words,  as  I hear,  with  the  author — commanded  that 
page  to  be  covered,  so  that  he  seems  to  disown  some  part 
of  the  charge,  as  I must  do  the  whole.”  Coveil  added 
that  he  thought  Locke  had  known  him  “ so  well  as  at 
least  to  have  a little  expostulated  such  a matter  as  this  ” 
before  he  charged  him  “ so  warmly  and  so  home.”  1 

Locke  readily  forgave  his  friend,  and  their  intimacy  I 
appears  to  have  been  strengthened  by  this  mischance  ; : 
hut  he  could  not  forget  the  insult  that  had  been  put  upon 
him,  however  unintentionally,  by  the  university  authori- 
ties. His  letter  of  forgiveness  is  missing ; hut  nearly  a 
year  later  he  referred  to  a conversation  on  the  subject 
that  had  taken  place  while  Coveil  was  visiting  him  at 
Oates  in  the  spring  of  1698.  “ The  discourse  you  then 

made  me  about  the  ‘ imprimatur  ’ so  fully  satisfied  me 
that  I was  not  mistaken  in  your  friendship,”  he  wrote, 

“ that  I shall  not  he  unwilling  you  should  put  into  my 
hands  the  means  of  vindicating  you  to  the  world  in  this 
matter.  I therefore  desire  that  you  would  send  me  the 
1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  22910,  fol.  463 ; Coveil  to  Locke,  4 Oct.,  1697. 


■16S7.  '1 
-Et.  64.  J 


FURTHER  ATTACKS  FROM  EDWARDS. 


415 


letter  you  offered  to  write  to  me  that  I might  publish 
concerning  that  affair.  For,  though  your  name  stands 
printed  equally  amongst  the  others,  yet  I shall  he  glad  to 
have  it  in  my  power  to  clear  you  in  that  point  and  to  show 
the  world  that  they  ought  not  to  involve  you  in  the  same 
opinion  with  the  others  which  that  memorable  transaction, 
when  examined  and  looked  into,  will  be  found  to  deserve.”1 
Covell  sent  a more  formal  and  dignified  letter  of  apology 
and  explanation  ; 2 but  it  does  not  appear  that  Locke  made 
any  use  of  it,  or  took  any  further  notice  of  Edwards’s 
venomous  attacks. 

Some  time  before  this  he  had  embarked  in  his  more 
important  controversy  with  Bishop  Stillingfleet,  a more 
influential,  though  hardly  a more  honest  or  able  opponent. 

Almost  immediately  after  the  publication  of  ‘ The  Rea- 
sonableness of  Christianity  ’ appeared  another  anonymous 
work,  ‘ Christianity  not  Mysterious,’  which  caused  even 
greater  commotion  among  the  theologians  than  Locke’s 
treatise.  Its  author  was  John  Toland — as  he  called  him- 
self, his  sponsors  having  named  him  Janus  Junius — a young 
Irishman  of  erratic  genius,  who,  horn  at  Derry  in  1669  or 
1670,  renounced  the  Catholicism  in  which  he  had  been 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  22910,  fol.  477;  Locke  to  Coveil,  26  July,  1698. 

2 Ibid.,  fol.  468  ; Covell  to  Locke,  2 August,  1698.  The  following  sen- 
tences are  from  a letter  (in  the  same  collection,  fol.  474)  that  Locke  wrote  to 
Covell  on  the  1st  of  July,  1698  : — “ I received  the  book  you  sent  to  me  safe, 
entitled  ‘ The  Acts  of  English  Votaries,’  written  by  John  Bale.  I mention 
the  title  so  particularly  that,  if  I should  die  before  I restore  it  again,  you 
may  demand  it  of  my  executor  ; for,  though  it  be  but  a little  book,  yet  pos- 
sibly it  is  not  every  day  to  be  met  with,  and  ’tis  fit  you  should  have  your 
own  again  and  not  lose  by  the  favour  you  have  done  me  in  lending  it.  . . . 
I beg  the  favour  of  you  to  let  your  man  transcribe  the  description  of  the 
monster  and  the  woman’s  confession  out  of  Benedetto  Varchi,  because  it  is 
a book  I know  not  where  to  meet  with,  and  I shall  have  occasion  to  make 
use  of  the  story.” 


416 


CONTROVERSY:  LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Caip.  yrv. 


educated,  became  a presbyterian  student  at  Glasgow  in 
1687,  went  thence  to  Edinburgh,  and  in  1690  to  Leyden, 
where  he  acquired  more  liberal  opinions  in  theology,  before 
finishing  his  university  life  at  Oxford.  He  was  as  un- 
scrupulous as  he  was  clever,  and  his  vanity,  arrogance  and 
lawless  ways  of  life'  went  far  to  spoil  the  good  work  that 
he  did,  and  farther  to  ruin  his  own  prospects.  On  his 
return  from  Holland  he  boasted  of  having  enjoyed  the 
friendship  of  Limborch  and  Le  Clerc,  though  Limborch 
could  not  remember  that  he  had  ever  seen  him,  and  Le 
Clerc  only  spoke  with  him  twice,  and  on  the  second 
occasion,  said  Limborch,  “ so  dealt  with  him  that  he  had 
small  reason  to  boast  of  their  meeting.”  1 Having  scraped 
up  some  acquaintance  with  Locke  in  London,  and  been 
kindly  treated  by  him,  he  made  similar  unfair  use  of  their 
slight  connection.  When,  in  1697,  he  attempted  to  settle 
down  in  Dublin,  Molyneux  welcomed  him  as  Locke’s 
friend,2  until  warned  by  him  to  the  contrary.3  Molyneux  , 
soon  found  the  warning  well-grounded.  “ He  has  raised 
against  him  the  clamour  of  all  parties,”  he  wrote  before 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  438 ; Limborch  to  Locke,  [24  July — ] 3 Aug.,  1 
1699.  “I  am  very  glad,”  Bishop  Burnet  wrote,  probably  in  1700,  in  an 
undated  letter  to  Le  Clerc,  “ that  you  have  put  it  in  my  power  to  clear  you 
of  all  correspondence  with  Mr.  Toland.  I shall  add  only  one  thing  concerning  ! 
him  to  show  you  what  sort  of  a man  he  is.  Mr.  Firmin,  whose  character  you 
know,  if  not  himself,  who  supported  Socinianism  while  he  lived  and  with 
whom  it  seems  to  be  sunk  among  us,  but  who  was  a man  of  strict  morality  and 
eminently  zealous  for  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  broke  with  him  and 
would  have  no  communication  with  him  a year  before  his  death.  This  Mr. 
Daranda  told  me  he  had  from  Mr.  Firmin  himself.  Mr.  Firmin  was  a true 
Socinian ; but  it  appears  now  that  infidelity  is  the  business  to  which  the 
other  was  only  a disguise  ; for  that  goes  on,  though  the  other  is  at  a stand.” 

— MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library . | 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  190  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  6 April,  1697. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  206 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  3 May,  1697. 


toland’s  ‘ Christianity  not  mysterious.’  417 

Toland  had  been  two  months  in  Ireland,  “ and  this  not 
so  much  by  his  difference  in  opinion,  as  by  his  unreason- 
able way  of  discoursing,  propagating  and  maintaining  it. 
Coffee-houses  and  public  tables  are  not  proper  places  for 
serious  discourses  relating  to  the  most  important  truths ; 
but  when  also  a tincture  of  vanity  appears  in  the  whole 
course  of  a man’s  conversation,  it  disgusts  many  that  may 
otherwise  have  a due  value  of  his  parts  and  learning.  Mr. 
Toland  also  takes  here  a great  liberty  on  all  occasions  to 
vouch  your  patronage  and  friendship,  which  makes  many 
that  rail  at  him  rail  also  at  you.”  1 

The  raillery  that  Toland  brought  upon  Locke,  not  only 
in  Dublin,  but  also  in  London  and  elsewhere,  did  not 
affect  his  opinion  of  him,  as  that  opinion  had  already  been 
formed ; hut  it  occasioned  him  serious  inconvenience. 
In  ‘ Christianity  not  Mysterious  ’ — a work  the  great  ability 
of  which  must  not  he  ignored  on  account  of  its  many 
blemishes  or  the  infirmities  of  its  author — Locke’s  views 
were  partly  perverted  and  partly  carried  out  to  their 
logical  conclusions.  Toland  insisted,  with  almost  more 
boldness  than  any  previous  writers  had  shown,  upon  the 
free  exercise  of  reason  in  matters  of  faith,  and  attempted 
to  do  for  theology  what  Locke  had  done  for  metaphysics. 
He  promised  to  show,  in  a book  which  he  never  wrote, 
that  Christianity  is  a divinely  revealed  religion  ; but  he 
here  contented  himself  with  arguing  that  no  religion  can 
he  accepted  unless  it  is  altogether  reasonable  and  intelli- 
gible, and  that  Christianity,  as  he  understood  it,  answers 
those  conditions.  He  endeavoured  to  apply  purely  scien- 
tific tests  to  all  the  historical  and  doctrinal  teachings  of 
the  Christian  fathers.  He  admitted  that,  when  all  is 
done  that  can  be  done  to  clear  away  the  quibbles  and 
‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  215;  William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  27  May,  1697. 

Vol.  II.— 27 


418 


controversy:  later  writings. 


[Chap.  TTV. 


delusions  in  which  schoolmen,  theologians,  visionaries 
and  fanatics  indulge,  there  will  be  a great  outside  circle 
of  mysteries ; but  with  these  we  have  nothing  to  do 
unless,  by  wise  use  of  reason,  we  can  farther  extend  the 
ground  on  which  alone  Christianity,  either  as  a rule  of 
life  or  a system  of  beliefs,  can  be  planted.  We  can  only 
believe  what  we  understand.  We  can  obey  no  rule  the 
principles  of  which  are  unintelligible  to  us.  Had  Locke, 
with  his  great  force  of  intellect,  entered  soberly  upon  the 
task  that  Toland  rashly  assigned  to  himself,  he  might, 
amid  the  chaos  of  vague  opinions  and  conflicting  dogmas 
with  which  the  religious  world  was  perplexed,  have 
brought  about  in  theology  a revolution  as  important  as 
that  which  he  did  bring  about  in  philosophy.  But  his 
own  religious  bias  was  too  strong ; and  Toland’s  book  only 
provoked  a new  storm  of  controversy  which  soon  died 
out,  and  the  book  with  it.1  It  is  now  chiefly  remembered, 

1 Toland’s  book  was  burnt  at  the  door  of  the  parliament  house  in  Dublin  in 
August,  1697,  this  foolish  proceeding  being  adopted,  however,  it  would  seem 
quite  as  much  in  consequence  of  the  prejudice  excited  by  Toland’s  reckless 
bluster  and  disreputable  life  as  in  consequence  of  any  violent  and  general 
opposition  to  the  book  itself.  At  any  rate  Toland’s  misconduct  provided 
the  bigots  with  a strong  lever  for  overturning  the  book,  as  far  as  the  parlia- 
ment could  doit.  “ Mr-.  Toland  is  at  last  driven  out  of  our  kingdom,”  Moly- 
neux  wrote  to  Locke  on  the  11th  of  September  (‘  Familiar  Letters,’  p.  236). 
“ The  poor  gentleman,  by  his  imprudent  management,  had  raised  such  an 
universal  outcry  that  ’twas  even  dangerous  for  a man  to  have  been  known 
once  to  converse  with  him.  This  made  all  wary  men  of  reputation  decline 
seeing  him,  insomuch  that  at  last  he  wanted  a meal’s-meat,  as  I am  told, 
and  none  would  admit  him  to  their  tables.  The  little  stock  of  money  which 
he  brought  into  this  country  being  exhausted,  he  fell  to  borrowing  from  any 
one  that  would  lend  him  half-a-crown,  and  ran  into  debt  for  his  wigs,  clothes 
and  lodging,  as  I am  informed  ; and  last  of  all,  to  complete  his  hardships, 
the  parliament  fell  on  his  book,  voted  it  to  be  burned  by  the  common  hang- 
man, and  ordered  the  author  to  be  taken  into  custody  of  the  serjeant-at-arms 


TOLAND’s  c CHRISTIANITY  NOT  MYSTERIOUS. * 419 

if  remembered  at  all,  on  account  of  the  efforts  made  to 
implicate  Locke  in  its  tenets  and  Locke’s  own  efforts  to 
clear  himself  therefrom. 

Toland  recognised  four  and  only  four  sources  of  know- 
ledge and  agencies  for  discovering  the  truths  of  religion  : 
the  experience  of  the  senses,  the  experience  of  the  mind, 
human  authority  or  moral  certitude,  and  divine  authority 
or  such  professed  revelation  as  is  consistent  with  reason. 
With  the  third  and  fourth  we  need  not  concern  ourselves, 
nor  is  it  requisite  to  say  more  of  the  first  and  second 
than  that  they  were  adaptations  of  the  account  of  ideas 
of  sensation  and  ideas  of  reflection  given  by  Locke  in 
his  ‘Essay.’  Toland  avowedly  laid  the  foundations 
of  his  work  in  Locke’s  philosophy  and  put  upon  some 
parts  of  it  interpretations  with  which  Locke  by  Ho  means 
agreed.  Without  any  intentional  dishonesty,  he  gave  to 
all  opponents  who  knew  Locke  to  be  the  author  of  ‘ The 
Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  and  suspected  him  or 
wished  others  to  suspect  him  of  sympathy  with  the  deists 
and  Unitarians,  an  opportunity  of  condemning  the  ‘Essay’ 
as  the  fountain  of  all  sorts  of  heresy ; and  foremost  among 
these  opponents  was  Edward  Stillingfleet,  the  first  Lord 
Shaftesbury’s  protege  half  a century  before,  when  Locke 
was  acquainted  with  him  ; a turncoat  in  the  later  years 
of  the  Stuarts,  when  Locke  wrote,  but  did  not  publish, 
a powerful  answer  to  his  ‘ Unreasonableness  of  Separa- 

and  to  be  prosecuted  by  the  attorney-general-at-law.  Hereupon  be  is  fled 
out  of  this  kingdom,  and  none  knows  where  he  has  directed  his  course.” 
Toland  turned  up  in  London  and  lived  there  and  elsewhere  till  1722.  He 
wrote  a ‘ Life  of  Milton  ’ in  1698,  ‘ Amyntor,  or  a Defence  of  Milton’s  Life,’ 
in  1699,  ‘ Letters  to  Serena  ’ in  1704,  ‘ Nazarenus  ’ in  1718,  and  other  works, 
obtaining  a bare  subsistence  as  a bookseller’s  hack.  An  interesting  account 
of  him  will  be  found  in  D’lsraeli’s  ‘Calamities  of  Authors.’ 


420 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV 


tion ; 1 and  now  bishop  of  Worcester,  sorely  disappointed 
that  Tenison  had  been  preferred  before  him  as  archbishop 
of  Canterbury. 

Stillingfleet  was  a sound  scholar,  but  no  logician,  and 
even  his  admirers  were  surprised  when  into  ‘ A Discourse 
in  Vindication  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,’  which  he 
published  in  the  autumn  of  1696,  he  imported  twenty- 
seven  pages  of  attack  upon  Locke  for  certain  opinions 
that  he  supposed  him  to  hold  in  common  with  Toland 
and  the  Unitarians,  “the  gentlemen  of  the  new  way  of 
reasoning.”  “My  book,”  that  is,  the  ‘Essay,’  Locke 
said,  “ was  brought  into  the  trinitarian  controversy  by 
these  steps : 1.  The  Unitarians  have  not  explained  the 
nature  and  bounds  of  reason.  2.  The  author  of  ‘ Chris- 
tianity not  Mysterious,’  to  make  amends  for  this,  has 
offered  an  account  of  reason.  3.  His  doctrine  concerning 
reason  supposes  that  we  must  have  clear  and  distinct 
ideas  of  whatever  we  pretend  to  any  certainty  of  in  our 
mind.  4.  Your  lordship  calls  this  a ‘ new  way  of  reason- 
ing.’ 5.  This  ‘ gentleman  of  the  new  way  of  reasoning  ’ 
in  his  first  chapter,  says  something  which  has  a conformity 
with  some  of  the  notions  in  my  book.  But,  it  is  to  be 
observed,  he  speaks  them  as  his  own  thoughts  and  not 
upon  my  authority,  nor  taking  any  notice  of  me.  6.  By 
virtue  of  this,  he  is  presently  entitled  to  I know  not  how 
much  of  my  book,  and  divers  passages  of  my  ‘ Essay  ’ are 
quoted  and  attributed  to  him  under  the  title  of  ‘ the 
gentlemen  of  the  new  way  of  reasoning  ’ (for  he  is  by  this 
time  turned  into  a troop),  and  certain  unknown  (if  they 
are  not  all  contained  in  this  one  author’s  doublet)  ‘ they  ’ 
and  ‘ these  ’ are  made  by  your  lordship  to  lay  about  them 
shrewdly,  for  several  pages  together,  in  your  lordship’s 
1 See  vol.  i.,  pp.  456 — 461  of  this  work. 


Iby6.  1 

Mt.  64.  J 


STILLINGFLEET’s  ATTACK  ON  LOCKE. 


421 


* Vindication  of  tlie  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,’  with  passages 
taken  out  of  my  book,  which  your  lordship  was  at  the 
pains  to  quote  as  ‘ theirs,’  that  is,  certain  unknown  anti- 
trinitarians.” 1 It  was  a clear  injustice  to  Locke  to 
attribute  his  original  arguments  to  other  writers  ; but  it 
was  a cruel  injury  to  him  to  represent  him  as  holding 
their  opinions.  ‘‘Nothing  but  my  book  and  my  words 
being  quoted,  the  world  will  be  apt  to  think  that  I am  the 
person  who  argue  against  the  Trinity  and  deny  mysteries, 
against  whom  your  lordship  directs  those  pages.”  2 

“ I have  lately  met  with  a book  of  the  Bishop  of 
Worcester’s  concerning  the  Trinity,”  Molyneux  wrote.  ' 
“ He  takes  occasion  therein  to  reflect  on  some  things  in 
your  ‘ Essay,’  but  truly,  I think,  with  no  great  strength  of 
reason.  However,  he  being  a man  of  great  name,  I hum- 
bly propose  to  you  whether  you  may  not  judge  it  worth 
your  while  to  take  notice  of  what  he  says,  which  will  be 
no  difficult  task.”3  Locke,  in  his  reply,  said  that  he  had 
anticipated  Molyneux’s  advice.  “What  he  says  is,  as 
you  observe,  not  of  that  moment  much  to  need  an  answer: 
but  the  sly  design  of  it  I think  necessary  to  oppose  ; for 
I cannot  allow  any  one’s  great  name  a right  to  use  me 
ill.  All  fair  contenders  for  the  opinions  they  have  I like 
mightily ; but  there  are  so  few  that  have  opinions,  or  at 
least  seem,  by  their  way  of  defending  them,  to  be  really 
persuaded  of  the  opinions  they  profess,  that  I am  apt  to 
think  there  is  in  the  world  a great  deal  more  scepticism, 
or  at  least  want  of  concern  for  truth,  than  is  imagined.”  4 

1 ‘Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second 
Letter  ’ (1699),  p.  18. 

2 ‘A  Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  (1697),  p.  59. 

8 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  171 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  3 Feb.,  1696-7. 

4 Ibid.,  p.  180  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  22  Feb.,  1696-7. 


422 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


To  controvert  and  expose  his  new  opponent’s  “ sly 
design,”  Locke  wrote  ‘ A Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Wor- 
cester concerning  some  Passages,  relating  to  Mr.  Locke’s 
Essay  of  Human  Understanding,  in  a late  Discourse  of  his 
Lordship’s  in  Vindication  of  the  Trinity,’  which  was  dated 
the  7th  of  January,  1696-7,  and  published  in  February  or 
March,  some  weeks  before  the  ‘ Second  Vindication  of 
“ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity.”  ’ The  bishop  at 
once  prepared  an  ‘ Answer  to  Mr.  Locke’s  Letter  ’ which 
was  dated  the  26th  of  April,  and  published  in  May.  “ So 
that  I perceive  this  controversy  is  a matter  of  serious 
moment  beyond  what  I could  have  thought,”  Locke  wrote 
on  hearing  that  this  answer  was  in  the  press.  “ This 
benefit  I shall  be  sure  to  get  by  it,  either  to  be  confirmed 
in  my  opinion,  or  be  convinced  of  some  errors,  which  I 
shall  presently  reform,  and  so  make  it  the  better  for  it.”  1 
‘ Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer 
to  his  Letter,’  dated  the  29tli  of  June,  appeared  in  August. 
“ I had  much  rather,”  he  said,  “be  at  leisure  to  make 
some  additions  to  my  ‘ Essay  ’ than  be  employed  to 
defend  myself  against  the  groundless  and,  as  others  think, 
trifling  quarrel  of  the  bishop.  But  his  lordship  is  pleased 
to  have  it  otherwise,  and  I must  answer  for  myself  as 
well  as  I can  till  I have  the  good  luck  to  be  convinced.”  2 
The  bishop  endeavoured  to  convince  him  in  an  ‘ Answer 
to  Mr.  Locke’s  Second  Letter,  wherein  his  Notion  of  Ideas 
is  proved  to  be  inconsistent  with  itself  and  with  the 
Articles  of  the  Christian  Faith,’  dated  the  22nd  of  Sep- 
tember, hut  not  printed  till  the  beginning  of  the  following 
year.  “ ’Tis  of  a piece  with  the  rest,”  Molyneux  wrote 
of  it,  “ and  you  know  my  thoughts  of  them  already.  I 

1 4 Familiar  Letters,’  p.  209 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  3 May,  1697. 

Ibid.,  p.  234  j Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  11  Sept.,  1697. 


jEtelis.]  THE  CONTEOYEEST  WITH  STILLINGFLEET.  423 

begin  to  be  almost  of  old  Hobbes’s  opinion  that,  were  it 
men’s  interest,  they  would  question  the  truth  of  Euclid’s 
‘Elements,’  as  now  they  contest  almost  as  full  evi- 
dences.” 1 “I  have  an  answer  ready  for  the  press,’  ’ Locke 
replied.  “ It  is  too  long.  The  plenty  of  matter  of  all 
sorts  which  the  gentleman  affords  me  is  the  cause  of  its 
too  great  length,  though  I have  passed  by  many  things 
worthy  of  remark.”  2 ‘ Mr.  Locke’s  Eeply  to  the  Bishop 

of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second  Letter,’  though 
dated  the  4th  of  May,  1698,  was  not  published  until  1699. 
If  Stillingfleet  ever  thought  of  making  a rejoinder  to  it, 
he  died  too  soon  ; and  thus  the  controversy  was  brought 
to  a close.  It  had  attained  dimensions  about  equal  to 
those  of  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’ 
Locke’s  share  of  the  whole  amounting  to  nearly  three- 
fourths. 

Locke’s  own  stricture  on  his  last  letter  is  true  of  all 
three.  They  are  “too  long,”  if  not  for  the  immediate 
occasions  that  prompted  them,  at  any  rate  for  the  only 
uses  that  they  now  can  serve.  Stillingfleet  could  not  or 
would  not  separate  Locke’s  opinions  from  the  opinions  of 
the  deists  and  Unitarians  whom  he  wished  to  overturn, 
and  he  persisted  in  his  “ sly  design  ” of  discrediting 
Locke’s  philosophy  by  associating  him  with  more  ob- 
noxious writers.  His  letters  were  even  more  full  of 
misrepresentations  of  Locke’s  views  and  of  misquotations 
from  his  ‘ Essay  ’ than  of  illogical  efforts  to  refute  them. 
Locke  therefore  deemed  it  necessary  to  repeat  his  argu- 
ments over  and  over  again,  with  a diffuseness  that  was 
partly  due  to  hasty  writing  but  yet  more  to  an  honest 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’ p.  263;  William  Molyneux  to  L-mke,  15  Marcl^ 
1697-8. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  267 ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  6 April,  1698. 


424 


CONTEOVEESY  : LATEE  WETTINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV 


desire  to  restate  them  in  such  ways  as  might  succeed  in 
convincing,  if  not  Stillingfleet  himself,  the  crowd  of 
persons  whom  his  unfair  tactics  were  likely  to  mislead. 
Hence  a large  portion  of  his  replies  must  be  tedious  and 
must  appear  redundant  to  modern  readers ; and,  for  our 
present  purposes  at  any  rate,  a very  brief  account  of  then 
general  tenour  will  be  sufficient. 

The  tone  in  which  this  controversy  wTas  carried  on 
must  not  be  ignored.  In  writing  against  Edwards  Locke 
made  no  secret  of  his  contempt  for  his  vulgar  antagonist 
and  the  miserable  perversions  of  Christianity  that  he 
sought  to  defend.  Towards  Stillingfleet  he  was  always 
singularly  courteous,  though  the  courtesy  was  charged 
with  a judicious  satire  and  a wholesome  mockery  which, 
without  adopting  the  current  report  that  the  bishop  at 
last  died  of  chagrin  at  his  discomfiture,  we  may  be  sure 
must  have  been  very  distressing  to  him.  An  Irish  prelate 
told  Molyneux  that  Locke’s  words,  “ though  they  were  as 
smooth  as  oil,  yet  cut  like  a two-edged  sword.”  Another 
Irish  prelate  said  to  the  same  friend,  “ He  has  fairly  laid 
the  great  bishop  on  his  back ; but  ’tis  with  so  much 
gentleness  as  if  he  were  afraid,  not  only  of  hurting  him, 
but  even  of  spoiling  or  tumbling  his  clothes.  Indeed,  I 
cannot  tell  which  I most  admire,  the  great  civility  and 
good  manners  in  his  book,  or  the  force  and  clearness  of 
his  reasonings.”1  The  polite  sarcasm  was  triumphant  in 
the  sentence  with  which  Locke  closed  the  controversy. 
‘‘Before  I conclude,”  he  said,  “ ’tis  fit  I take  notice  of 
the  obligations  I have  to  you  for  the  pains  you  have  been 
at  about  my  ‘ Essay,’  which,  I conclude,  could  not  have 
been  any  way  so  effectually  recommended  to  the  world  as 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  213 ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  15  May, 
1697. 


*“•&*]  THE  CONTEOYEESY  WITH  STILLINGFLEET. 


425 


by  your  manner  of  writing  against  it ; and  since  your 
lordship’s  sharp  sight,  so  carefully  employed  for  its  cor- 
rection, has,  I humbly  conceive,  found  no  faults  in  it,  I 
hope  I may  presume  it  will  pass  the  better  in  the  world 
and  the  judgment  of  all  considering  men,  and  make  it  for 
the  future  stand  better  even  in  your  lordship’s  opinion.”  1 

A few  illustrations  will  suffice  to  show  the  nature  and 
method  of  Locke’s  controversy  with  Stiilingfleet  on  those 
matters  about  which  they  were  actually  at  variance. 

Having  undertaken  to  “ vindicate  ” the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  espe- 
cially the  peculiar  notions  of  substance  involved  in  it,  Stiilingfleet  naturally 
took  exception  to  Locke’s  fundamental  argument  that  we  can  know  nothingthat 
is  not  derived  from  our  ideas  of  sensation  or  reflection.  “ Then  it  follows,”  he 
said,  “ that  we  can  have  no  foundation  of  reasoning  where  there  can  be  no 
such  ideas  from  sensation  or  reflection.  Now  this  is  the  case  of  substance. 
It  is  not  intromitted  by  the  senses,  nor  depends  upon  the  operation  of  the 
mind,  and  so  it  cannot  be  within  the  compass  of  our  reason.  And  therefore 
I do  not  wonder  that  the  gentlemen  of  this  new  way  of  reasoning  have 
almost  discarded  substance  out  of  the  reasonable  part  of  the  world.”2 

Locke  referred  to  several  passages  of  his  * Essay,’ 3 in  which  he  had 
shown  that  our  ideas  of  substance  do  come  from  sensation  and  reflection. 
But,  he  added,  “ I do  not  understand  what  is  ‘ almost  to  discard  substance 
out  of  the  reasonable  part  of  the  world.’  If  your  lordship  means  that  I 
have  destroyed,  and  almost  discarded,  the  true  idea  we  have  of  it,  by  calling 
it  ‘ a substratum,’  a ‘ supposition  of  we  know  not  what  support  of  such 
qualities  as  are  capable  of  producing  simple  ideas  in  us,’  ‘ an  obscure  and 
relative  idea,’  ‘ that,  without  knowing  what  it  is,  which  supports  accidents, 
so  that  of  substance  we  have  no  idea  of  what  it  is,  but  only  a confused 
obscure  one  of  what  it  does  ’ — I must  confess  this  and  the  like  I have  said 
of  our  idea  of  substance,  and  should  he  very  glad  to  be  convinced  that  I have 


1 ‘Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second 
Letter  ’ (1699),  p.  452. 

2 Stiilingfleet,  ‘Discourse  in  Vindication  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,’ 
(1696),  p.  234. 

3 ‘Concerning  Human  Understanding,’  b.  ii.,  ch.  xii.,  § 6 ; b.  ii.,  ch. 
xiii.,  § 19  ; b.  ii.,  ch.  xxiii.,  § § 22,  23,  etc. 


426 


controversy:  later  writings. 


Chap.  XIV. 


spoken  too  meanly  of  it.  He  that  would  show  me  a more  clear  and  distinct 
idea  of  substance  would  do  me  a kindness  I should  thank  him  for  ; but  this 
is  the  best  I could  find  either  in  my  own  thoughts  or  in  the  books  of 
logicians.  But  supposing  I or  these  logicians  should  own  that  we  have  a 
very  imperfect,  obscure,  inadequate  idea  of  substance,  would  it  not  be  a little 
too  hard  to  charge  us  with  discarding  substance  out  of  the  world  ? Let 
* almost  ’ and  4 reasonable  part  ’ signify  here  what  they  will,  for  I dare  say 
your  lordship  meant  something  by  them,  would  not  your  lordship  think  you 
were  a little  hardly  dealt  with  if,  for  acknowledging  yourself  to  have  a very 
imperfect  and  inadequate  idea  of  God,  or  of  several  other  things  which  in  this 
very  treatise  you  confess  our  understandings  come  short  in  and  cannot  com- 
prehend, you  should  be  accused  to  be  one  of  these  gentlemen  that  have 
almost  discarded  God  or  those  other  mysterious  things  whereof  you  contend 
we  have  very  imperfect  and  inadequate  ideas,  out  of  the  reasonable  world  ?”  1 
“My  saying,”  Locke  continued,  “that  ‘when  we  talk  of  substance,  we 
talk  like  children  who  being  asked  a question  about  something  which  they 
know  not,  readily  give  this  satisfactory  answer,  ‘ that  it  is  something,’  your 
lordship  seems  mightily  to  lay  it  to  heart  in  these  words  that  follow ; 4 If 
this  be  the  truth  of  the  case,  we  must  still  talk  like  children,  and  I know  not 
how  it  can  be  remedied.  For,  if  we  cannot  come  at  a rational  idea  of  sub- 
stance, we  can  have  no  principle  of  certainty  to  go  upon  in  this  debate.’  If 
your  lordship  has  any  better  and  distincter  idea  of  substance  than  mine  is, 
which  I have  given  an  account  of,  your  lordship  is  not  at  all  concerned  in 
what  I have  there  said.  But  those  whose  idea  of  substance,  whether  a rational 
or  not  rational  idea,  is  like  mine,  something  they  know  not  what,  must  in 
that  with  me  talk  like  children  when  they  speak  of  something  they  know  not 
what.  For  a philosopher  that  says  that  which  supports  accidents  is  something 
he  knows  not  what,  and  a countryman  that  says  the  foundation  of  the  great 
church  at  Haarlem  is  supported  by  something  he  knows  not  what,  and  a 
child  that  stands  in  the  dark  upon  his  mother’s  muff  and  says  he  stands 
upon  something  he  knows  not  what,  in  this  respect  talk  all  three  alike.  As 
long  as  we  think  like  children,  in  cases  where  our  ideas  are  no  clearer  nor 
distincter  than  theirs,  I agree  with  your  lordship  that  4 1 know  not  how  it 
can  be  remedied,  but  that  we  must  talk  like  them.’  ” 2 

A large  part  of  Locke's  first  4 Letter  ’ to  Stillingfleet  was  devoted  to  the 
vindication  of  his  original  propositions  concerning  the  only  sources  of 


1 4 A Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  ’ (1G97),  pp.  6,  10 — 13. 

2 Ibid.,  pp.  15,  16. 


^t9k]  THE  FIRST  c letter  to  stillingfleet. 


427 


knowledge  and  the  only  grounds  of  reasoning,  Stillingfleet’s  main  effort 
being  to  show  that  other  sources  and  grounds  must  be  sought  if  we  are  to 
have  any  real  knowledge  of  anything  within  us  or  around  us,  and  especially 
of  such  “ spiritual  substances  ” as  our  own  souls  or  their  Creator.  “ We 
can  have  no  certainty  of  an  immaterial  substance  from  these  simple  ideas,” 
the  bishop  maintained.  “ There  can  be  no  sufficient  evidence  brought  from 
them  concerning  the  existence  of  the  most  spiritual  and  infinite  substance, 
even  God  himself.”  And  after  examining  at  some  length  Locke's  famous 
chapter  on  “ our  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  a God,”  he  claimed  to  have 
proved  “ that  the  certainty  of  it  is  not  placed  upon  any  clear  and  distinct 
ideas,  but  upon  the  force  of  reason  distinct  from  it.”  1 

“I  do  not  remember,”  Locke  replied,  “ that  I have  anywhere  said  that 
we  could  not  be  convinced  by  reason  of  any  truth  but  where  all  the  ideas 
concerned  in  that  conviction  were  clear  and  distinct ; for  knowledge  or 
certainty,  in  my  opinion,  lies  in  the  perception  of  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  ideas  such  as  they  are,  and  not  always  in  having  perfectly  clear  and 
distinct  ideas.  Those,  I must  own,  the  clearer  and  more  distinct  they  are, 
contribute  very  much  to  our  more  clear  and  distinct  reasoning  and  dis- 
coursing about  them  ; but  yet  in  some  cases  we  may  have  certainty  about 
obscure  ideas — for  example,  by  the  clear  idea  of  thinking  in  me,  I find  the 
idea  of  the  clear  idea  of  existence  and  the  obscure  idea  of  a substance  in  me, 
because  I perceive  the  necessary  agreement  of  thinking  and  the  relative  idea 
of  a support,  which  support,  without  having  any  clear  and  distinct  idea  of 
what  it  is  beyond  this  relative  one,  I call  substance.”  2 Out  of  such  material, 
Locke  insisted,  he  had  satisfactorily  built  up  his  proof  of  the  existence  of 
God ; but  he  declined  to  be  drawn  into  any  metaphysical  controversy 
about  the  nature  and  personality  of  the  Godhead,  whether  uniform  or 
multiform. 

“ All  our  notions  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,”  said  Stillingfleet, 
“ depend  upon  the  right  understanding  of  the  distinction  between  nature 
and  person.  For  we  must  talk  unintelligibly  about  this  point,  unless  we 
have  clear  and  distinct  apprehensions  concerning  nature  and  person  and  the 
grounds  of  identity  and  distinction.  But  these  come  not  into  our  minds  by 
the  simple  ideas  of  sensation  and  reflection.”  3 

“If  this  be  so,”  Locke  slily  observed,  “ the  inference  I should  draw  from 


1 Stillingfleet,  ‘ Discourse,’  etc.,  pp.  246,  252. 

8 ‘ A Letter,’  etc.,  pp.  87,  88. 

8 Stillingfleet,  ‘ Discourse,’  etc.,  p.  252. 


428 


CONTEOYEBSY  I LATEE  WEITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 

thence,  if  it  were  fit  for  me  to  draw  any,  would  be  this,  that  it  concerns 
those  who  write  on  that  subject  to  have  themselves  and  to  lay  down  to 
others  * clear  and  distinct  apprehensions  ’ or  notions  or  ideas,  call  them  what 
you  please,  of  what  they  mean  by  nature  and  person  and  of  the  grounds 
of  identity  and  distinction.”  1 

He  insisted  that  he  had  only  professed  to  instruct  men  about  the  materials 
with  which  sound  knowledge  could  be  built  upon  solid  foundations  : he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  efforts  of  others  to  erect  metaphysical  and  theological 
castles  in  the  air ; and  would  not  be  responsible  for  any  “ unintelligible 
talk  ” that  might  be  employed  in  the  hopeless  task.  “ There  is  in  the 
world,”  he  said,  “ a great  and  fierce  contest  about  nature  and  grace 
’Twould  be  very  hard  for  me  if  I must  be  brought  in  as  a party  on  either 
side,  because  a disputant  in  that  controversy  should  think  the  ‘ clear  and 
distinct  apprehensions  ’ of  nature  and  grace  ‘ come  not  into  our  minds  by 
the  simple  ideas  of  sensation  and  reflection.’  If  this  be  so,  I may  be 
reckoned  among  the  objectors  against  all  sorts  and  points  of  orthodoxy, 
whenever  any  one  pleases.  I may  be  called  to  account  as  one  heterodox  in 
the  points  of  free-grace,  free-will,  predestination,  original  sin,  justification 
by  faith,  transubstantiation,  the  pope’s  supremacy,  and  what  not  ? as  well  as 
in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  ; and  all  because  they  cannot  be  furnished 
with  clear  and  distinct  notions  of  grace,  free-will,  transubstantiation,  etc.,  by 
sensation  or  reflection.  For,  in  all  these  or  any  other  points,  I do  not  see 
but  there  may  be  complaint  made  that  they  have  not  always  a ‘ right  under- 
standing ’ and  ‘ clear  notions  ’ of  those  things  on  which  the  doctrine  they 
dispute  of  depends  ; and  ’tis  not  altogether  unusual  for  men  to  * talk  unin- 
telligibly ’ to  themselves  and  others  in  these  and  other  points  in  controversy 
for  want  of  ‘ clear  and  distinct  apprehensions,’  or  (as  I would  like  to  call 
them,  did  not  your  lordship  dislike  it)  ideas.  For  all  which  unintelligible 
talking  I do  not  think  myself  accountable,  though  it  should  so  fall  out  that 
my  ‘ way  by  ideas  ’ would  not  help  them  to  what  it  seems  is  wanting,  ‘ clear 
and  distinct  notions.’  If  my  way  be  ineffectual  to  that  purpose,  they  may 
make  use  of  any  other  more  successful,  and  leave  me  out  of  the  controversy 
as  one  useless  to  either  party  for  deciding  of  the  question.”  2 

Locke  having,  in  his  first  ‘ Letter,’  taken  Stillingfleet  very  courteously 
but  very  severely  to  task  for  misquoting  his  words  and  misrepresenting  his 
views  in  order  to  force  him  into  the  trinitarian  controversy  and  fasten  upon 
him  opinions  of  Toland  and  others  with  which  he  had  nothing  to  do,  the 


1 ‘ A Letter,’  etc.,  p.  148. 


2 Ibid.,  pp.  151,  152. 


169/'.  •) 
jEt.  64. J 


THE  FIRST  ‘ REPLY  ’ TO  STILLINGFLEET. 


429 


bishop  devoted  forty- seven  pages  of  his  ‘Answer’  to  a shuffling  attempt  to 
justify  his  dishonesty,  and  to  some  additional  falsifications,  thereby  robbing 
himself  of  all  ground  for  his  subsequent  complaint  that  Locke  devoted  fifty 
pages  of  his  ‘ Reply  ’ to  what  the  bishop  called  “ personal  matters.” 

Stillingfleet’s  main  excuse,  though  a very  poor  one,  for  bringing  Locke 
into  the  controversy,  was  thus  stated  : “ When  new  terms  are  made  use  of 
by  ill  men,  to  promote  scepticism  and  infidelity,  and  to  overthrow  the 
mysteries  of  our  faith,  we  have  then  reason  to  inquire  into  them  and  to 
examine  the  foundation  and  tendency  of  them  ; and  this  was  the  true  and 
only  reason  of  my  looking  into  this  new  way  of  certainty  by  ideas,  because 
I found  it  applied  to  such  purposes.”  1 And  the  most  obnoxious  of  all  the 
new  terms,  according  to  Stillingfleet,  was  that  one,  “ idea,”  which  Locke  had 
brought  into  fashion.  “ The  world,”  he  angrily  exclaimed,  “ hath  been 
strangely  amused  with  ‘ ideas  ’ of  late  ; and  we  have  been  told,  that  strange 
things  might  be  done  by  the  help  of  ‘ ideas  ; ’ and  yet  these  ‘ ideas,’  at  last, 
come  to  be  only  common  notions  of  things,  which  we  must  make  use  of  in 
our  reasoning.  You  say  in  that  chapter  about  the  existence  of  God,  you 
thought  it  most  proper  to  express  yourself  in  the  most  usual  and  familiar 
way,  by  common  words  and  expressions.  I would  you  had  done  so  quite 
through  your  book  ; for  then  you  had  never  given  that  occasion  to  the 
enemies  of  our  faith  to  take  up  your  new  way  of  ‘ ideas  ’ as  an  effectual 
battery,  as  they  imagined,  against  the  mysteries  of  the  Christian  faith.  But 
you  might  have  enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  your  ‘ ideas  ’ long  enough  before 
I had  taken  notice  of  them,  unless  I had  found  them  employed  about  doing 
mischief.”  2 

“ Which,”  Locke  replied  in  admirable  banter,  “ as  I humbly  conceive, 
amounts  to  thus  much  and  no  more,  namely,  that  your  lordship  fears 
‘ideas,’  that  is,  the  term  ‘ideas,’  may,  some  time  or  other,  prove  of  very 
dangerous  consequences  to  what  your  lordship  has  endeavoured  to  defend, 
because  they  have  been  made  use  of  in  arguing  against  it.  For  I am  sure 
your  lordship  does  not  mean  that  you  apprehend  the  things  signified  by 
‘ ideas  ’ may  be  of  dangerous  consequence  to  the  article  of  faith  your  lord- 
ship  endeavours  to  defend,  because  they  have  been  made  use  of  against  it; 
for,  besides  that  your  lordship  mentions  ‘ terms,’  that  would  be  to  expect 
that  those  who  oppose  that  article  should  oppose  it  without  any  thoughts ; 


1 ‘ The  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  Mr.  Locke’s  Letter’  (1697),  p. 

2U. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  98. 


430 


CONTROVERSY ! LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  yrv. 


for  the  things  signified  by  ‘ ideas  ’ are  nothing  but  the  immediate  objects  of 
our  minds  in  thinking  : so  that  unless  any  one  can  oppose  the  article  your 
lordship  defends  without  thinking  on  something,  he  must  use  the  things 
signified  by  ‘ ideas  ; 1 for  he  that  thinks  must  have  some  immediate  object  of 
his  mind  in  thinking,  that  is,  must  have  ‘ ideas.’  My  lord,  if  any,  in  answer 
to  your  lordship’s  sermons,  and  in  other  pamphlets,  wherein  your  lordship 
complains  they  have  talked  so  much  of  ‘ ideas,’  have  been  troublesome  to 
your  lordship  with  that  term,  it  is  not  strange  that  your  lordship  should  be 
tired  with  that  sound  ; but  how  natural  soever  it  bo  to  our  weak  constitu- 
tions to  be  offended  with  any  sound  wherewith  an  importunate  din  hath 
been  made  about  our  ears,  yet,  my  lord,  I know  your  lordship  has  a better 
opinion  of  the  articles  of  our  faith,  than  to  think  any  of  them  can  be  over- 
turned, or  so  much  as  shaken,  with  a breath  formed  into  any  sound  or  term 
whatsoever.  Names  are  but  the  arbitrary  marks  of  conception ; and,  so 
they  be  sufficiently  appropriated  to  them  in  their  use,  I know  no  other 
difference  any  of  them  have  in  particular,  but  as  they  are  of  easy  or  difficult 
pronunciation,  and  of  a more  or  less  pleasant  sound  ; and  what  particular 
antipathies  there  may  be  in  men  to  some  of  them  upon  that  account,  it  is  not 
easy  to  be  foreseen.  This  I am  sure,  no  term  whatsoever  in  itself  bears,  one 
more  than  another,  any  opposition  to  the  truth  of  any  kind ; they  are  only 
propositions  that  do,  or  can,  oppose  the  truth  of  any  article  or  doctrine ; 
and  thus  no  term  is  privileged  from  being  set  in  opposition  to  truth.  There 
is  no  word  to  be  found  which  may  not  be  brought  into  a proposition  wherein 
the  most  sacred  and  most  evident  truths  may  be  opposed  ; but  that  is  not  a 
fault  in  the  term,  but  him  that  uses  it.  My  lord,  if  I should  leave  the  word 
‘ idea  ’ wholly  out  of  my  book,  and  substitute  the  word  ‘ notion  ’ everywhere 
in  the  room  of  it,  and  everybody  else  do  so  too,  I do  not  see  how  this  would 
one  jot  abate  the  mischief  your  lordship  complains  of.  For  the  Unitarians 
might  as  much  employ  ‘ notions  ’ as  they  do  ‘ ideas  ’ to  do  mischief,  unless 
they  are  such  fools  as  to  think  they  can  conjure  with  this  notable  word 
‘ idea,’  and  that  the  force  of  the  term  lies  in  the  sound  and  not  in  the  signifi- 
cation of  their  terms.”  1 

“ Though  I cannot  conceive,”  he  went  on  to  say  somewhat  more  soberly, 
“how  any  term,  new  or  old,  idea  or  not  idea,  can  have  any  opposition  or 
danger  in  it  to  any  article  of  faith  or  any  truth  whatsoever,  yet  I easily  grant  ; 
that  propositions  are  capable  of  being  opposite  to  propositions,  and  may  fee 


1 ‘ Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Letter' 

(1697),  pp.  63—67,  70. 


THE  FIRST  c REPLY  ’ TO  STILLINGFLEET. 


431 


ifior.  i 
At.  CLJ 

such  as,  if  granted,  may  overthrow  articles  of  faith  or  any  other  truth  they 
are  opposite  to.  But  your  lordship  not  having,  as  I remember,  shown  or 
gone  about  to  show  how  this  proposition,  namely,  that  certainty  consists 
in  the  perception  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  two  ideas  is  opposite 
or  inconsistent  with  that  article  of  faith  which  your  lordship  has  endeavoured 
to  defend,  it  is  plain  it  is  but  your  lordship’s  fear  that  it  may  be  of  dangerous 
consequence  to  it,  which,  as  I humbly  conceive,  is  no  proof  that  it  is  any 
way  inconsistent  with  that  article.  The  reason  your  lordship  gives  of  your 
fears  is  only  this,  namely,  that  it  is  made  use  of  by  ill  men  to  do  mischief, 
that  is,  to  oppose  that  article  of  faith  which  your  lordship  hath  endeavoured 
to  defend.  But,  my  lord,  if  it  be  a reason  to  lay  by  anything  as  bad, 
because  it  is,  or  may  be,  used  to  an  ill  purpose,  I know  not  what  will  be 
innocent  enough  to  he  kept.  Arms,  which  were  made  for  our  defence,  are 
sometimes  made  use  of  to  do  mischief ; and  yet  they  are  not  thought  of 
dangerous  consequence  for  all  that.  Nobody  lays  by  his  sword  and  pistols, 
or  thinks  them  of  such  dangerous  consequence  as  to  be  neglected  or  thrown 
away,  because  robbers  and  the  worst  of  men  sometimes  make  nse  of  them 
to  take  away  honest  men’s  lives  or  goods.  And  the  reason  is,  because  they 
were  designed,  and  will  serve,  to  preserve  them.  And  who  knows  but  this 
may  he  the  present  case  ? If  your  lordship  thinks  that  placing  of  certainty 
in  the  perception  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  ideas  be  to  be  re- 
jected as  false,  because  you  apprehend  it  may  be  of  dangerous  consequence 
to  that  article  of  faith  on  the  other  side,  perhaps  others,  with  me,  may  think 
it  a defence  against  error,  and  so,  as  being  of  good  use,  to  be  received  and 
adhered  to.”  1 

Locke’s  ‘ Reply  ’ was  chiefly  occupied,  after  he  had  defended  himself  from 
Stillingfleet’s  “personal”  charges,  with  reiteration  and  expansion  of  his 
account  of  knowledge  or  certainty,  and  separation  of  it  from  faith  or  belief. 
“There  are  several  actions  of  men’s  minds,”  he  said,  “that  they  are  conscious 
to  themselves  of  performing,  as  willing,  believing,  knowing,  etc.,  which 
they  have  so  particular  a sense  of  that  they  can  distinguish  them  one  from 
another,  or  else  they  could  not  say  when  they  willed,  when  they  believed, and 
when  they  knew  anything.  But,  though  these  actions  were  different  enough 
from  one  another  and  not  to  be  confounded  by  those  who  spoke  of  them, 
yet  nobody  that  I had  met  with  had,  in  their  writings,  particularly  set  down 
wherein  the  act  of  knowing  precisely  consisted.  To  this  reflection,  upon 


1 ‘Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Letter’ 
(1697),  pp.  83—86. 


432 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  "i;V. 


the  actions  of  my  own  mind,  the  subject  of  my  ‘Essay  concerning  Human 
Understanding’ naturally  led  me;  wherein,  if  I have  done  anything  new, 
it  has  been  to  describe  to  others,  more  particularly  than  had  been  done 
before,  what  it  is  their  minds  do  when  they  perform  that  action  which  they 
call  knowing ; and  if,  upon  examination,  they  observe  I have  given  a true 
account  of  that  action  of  their  minds  in  all  the  parts  of  it,  I suppose  it  will 
be  in  vain  to  dispute  against  what  they  find  and  feel  in  themselves.  And 
if  I have  not  told  them  right  and  exactly  what  they  find  and  feel  in  them- 
selves, when  their  minds  perform  the  act  of  knowing,  what  I have  said  will 
be  all  in  vain.  Men  will  not  be  persuaded  against  their  senses.  Knowledge 
is  an  internal  perception  of  their  minds  ; and  if,  when  they  reflect  on  it, 
they  find  that  it  is  not  what  I have  said  it  is,  my  groundless  conceit  will 
not  be  hearkened  to,  hut  be  exploded  by  everybody,  and  die  of  itself ; and 
nobody  need  to  be  at  any  pains  to  drive  it  out  of  the  world.  My  definition 
of  knowledge  stands  thus  : knowledge  seems  to  me  to  he  nothing  but  the 
perception  of  the  connection  and  agreement,  or  disagreement  and  repugnancy, 
of  any  of  our  ‘ ideas.’  This  definition  your  lordship  dislikes,  and  apprehends 
it  may  be  of  dangerous  consequence  as  to  that  article  of  Christian  faith 

a J 

which  your  lordship  hath  endeavoured  to  defend.  Whether  true  or  false, 
right  or  wrong,  it  can  he  of  no  consequence  to  it  at  all.  That  which  your 
lordship  is  afraid  it  may  be  dangerous  to  is  an  article  of  faith : that  which 
your  lordship  labours  and  is  concerned  for  is  ‘ the  certainty  of  faith.’  Now, 
my  lord,  I humbly  conceive  ‘ the  certainty  of  faith,’  if  your  lordship  thinks 
fit  to  call  it  so,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  certainty  of  knowledge.  To  talk 
of  ‘ the  certainty  of  faith  ’ seems  all  one  to  me,  as  to  talk  of  ‘ the  knowledge 
of  believing,’  a way  of  speaking  not  easy  to  me  to  understand.  Place  know- 
ledge in  w'hat  you  will ; ‘ start  what  new  methods  of  certainty  you  please, 
that  are  apt  to  leave  men’s  minds  more  doubtful  than  before ; ’ place  cer- 
tainty on  such  grounds  as  will  leave  little  or  no  knowledge  in  the  world 
(for  these  are  the  arguments  your  lordship  uses  against  my  definition  of 
knowledge) ; this  shakes  not  at  all,  nor  in  the  least  concerns,  the  assurance 
of  faith ; that  is  quite  distinct  from  it,  neither  stands  nor  falls  with  know- 
ledge. Faith  stands  by  itself,  and  upon  grounds  of  its  own,  nor  can  be 
removed  from  them,  and  placed  on  those  of  knowledge.  Their  grounds 
are  so  far  from  being  the  same,  or  having  anything  common,  that  when  it 
is  brought  to  certainty,  faith  is  destroyed ; it  is  knowledge  then,  and  faith 
no  longer.  With  what  assurance  soever  of  believing  I assent  to  any  article 
of  faith,  so  that  I steadfastly  venture  my  all  upon  it,  it  is  still  but  believing. 
Bring  it  to  certainty,  and  it  ceases  to  be  faith.  ‘I  believe  that  Jesus  Obrist 


ifLJ  THE  FIRST  ‘ EEPLY  ’ TO  STILLINGFLEET. 


433 


was  crucified,  dead,  and  buried,  rose  again  the  third  day  from  the  dead, 
and  ascended  into  heaven.’  Let  now  such  methods  of  knowledge  or  cer- 
tainty be  started  as  leave  men’s  minds  more  doubtful  than  before ; let  the 
grounds  of  knowledge  be  resolved  into  what  any  one  pleases,  it  touches  not 
my  faith ; the  foundation  of  that  stands  as  sure  as  before,  and  cannot  be  at 
all  shaken  by  it ; and  one  may  as  well  say  that  anything  that  weakens 
the  sight,  or  casts  a mist  before  the  eyes,  endangers  the  hearing,  as  that 
anything  which  alters  the  nature  of  knowledge  (if  that  could  be  done) 
should  be  of  dangerous  consequence  to  an  article  of  faith.  Whether  then 
am  or  am  not  mistaken  in  the  placing  certainty  in  the  perception  of  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  ideas  ; whether  this  account  of  knowledge  be 
true  or  false,  enlarges  or  straitens  the  bounds  of  it  more  than  it  should, 
faith  stands  still  upon  its  own  basis,  which  is  not  at  all  altered  by  it ; and 
every  article  of  that  has  just  the  same  unmoved  foundation  and  the  very 
same  credibility  that  it  had  before.  So  that,  my  lord,  whatever  I have 
said  about  certainty,  and  how  much  soever  I may  be  out  in  it,  if  I am 
mistaken,  your  lordship  has  no  reason  to  apprehend  any  danger  to  any 
article  of  faith  from  thence  ; every  one  of  them  stands  upon  the  same  bottom 
it  did  before,  out  of  the  reach  of  what  belongs  to  knowledge  and  certainty. 
And  thus  much  of  my  way  of  certainty  by  ideas  ; which,  I hope,  will  satisfy 
your  lordship  how  far  it  is  from  being  dangerous  to  any  article  of  the 
Christian  faith  whatsoever.”1 

His  lordship  was  not  so  satisfied,  and  in  his  second  ‘Answer’  boldly  asserted 
that  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  Christianity  would  be  weakened  instead 
of  strengthened  if  they  were  proved  on  purely  rational  grounds,  and  persisted 
in  declaring  that  “ the  certainty  of  faith  ” is  stronger  than  “ the  certainty  of 
knowledge.”  Of  course  he  meant  here  that  the  “articles  of  faith  ” would 
have  a surer  hold  upon  men  if  they  were  taken  upon  trust  than  if  they  were 
subjected  to  the  test  of  reason.  But  the  conditions  upon  which  he  had 
entered  into  his  controversy  with  Locke,  and  his  own  reputation  as  a logical 
and  philosophical  churchman,  forbade  his  openly  taking  that  position. 
Therefore  he  sought  refuge  in  quibbles,  which  Locke  exposed  with  pitiless 
force. 

Though  Locke’s  second  ‘Reply’ — “wherein,  besides  other  incident 
matters,  is  examined  what  his  lordship  has  said  concerning  certainty  by 
reason,  certainty  by  ideas  and  certainty  by  faith,  the  resurrection  of  the 


1 ‘Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Letter’ 
(1697),  pp.  90,  91,  94—98. 

Vol.  II. — 28 


434 


CONTROVERSY  : - LATER  WRITINGS. 


[-Chap.  XTr. 


same  body,  the  immateriality  of  the  soul,  the  inconsistency  of  Mr.  Locke’s 
notions  with  the  articles  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  their  tendency  to 
scepticism” — is  nearly  twice  as  long  as  the  ‘Letter’  and  the  first  ‘ Reply’ 
put  together,  it  need  not  here  be  noticed  at  length.  Locke  found  it 
necessary  to  follow  his  assailant  into  the  mazes  of  theological  metaphysics 
in  which  he  endeavoured  to  find  shelter  when  driven  from  the  more  open 
ground,  and,  when  his  assailant  attempted  to  save  himself  by  verbal  subter- 
fuges, he  found  it  as  necessary  patiently  to  clear  all  these  away.  But  the 
work  was  evidently  irksome  to  him.  “ I must  beg  my  reader’s  pardon,  as 
well  as  your  lordship’s,”  he  said  in  one  place,  “for  using  so  many  words 
about  passages  that  seem  not  in  themselves  of  that  importance.  ’Tis  my 
misfortune  that,  in  this  controversy,  your  way  of  writing  forces  me  to  it. 
Clearness  and  force  and  consistence  are  to  be  presumed  always,  whatever 
your  lordship’s  words  be  ; and  there  is  no  other  remedy  for  an  answerer, 
who  finds  it  difficult  anywhere  to  come  at  your  meaning  or  argument,  but 
to  make  his  excuse  for  it  in  laying  the  particulars  before  the  reader,  that 
he  may  be  judge  where  the  fault  lies : an  inconvenience  possibly  fitter  to 
be  endured  than  that  your  lordship,  in  the  run  of  your  learned  notions, 
should  be  shackled  with  the  ordinary  and  strict  rules  of  language,  and,  in 
the  delivery  of  your  sublimer  speculations,  be  tied  down  to  the  mean  and 
contemptible  rudiments  of  grammar.”  1 

Though  Locke  had  not  forgotten  his  courtesy  in  writing  this  second 
* Reply,’  he  could  not  conceal  his  indignation  at  the  dishonest  treatment  to 
which  now  for  the  third  time  he  was  subjected  by  the  same  episcopal  hand. 
In  his  second  ‘ Answer  ’ Stillingfleet  was  more  reckless  than  ever  in  his 
perversion  of  Locke’s  language  and  attempt  to  convict  him  of  heresies  that 
he  repirdiated.  “ I have  been  pretty  large  in  making  this  matter  plain,” 
Locke  said  at  the  close  of  a long  debate  concerning  the  immateriality  of  the 
soul,  “that  they  who  are  so  forward  to  bestow  hard  censures  or  names  on 
the  opinions  of  those  who  differ  from  them  may  consider  whether  some- 
times they  are  not  due  to  their  own,  and  that  they  may  be  persuaded  a 
little  to  temper  that  heat  which,  supposing  the  truth  in  their  current 
opinions,  gives  them,  as  they  think,  a right  to  lay  what  imputations  they 
please  on  those  who  would  fairly  examine  the  grounds  they  stand  upon. 
For,  talking  with  a supposition  and  insinuations  that  truth  and  knowledge, 
nay,  and  religion  too,  stand  and  fall  with  their  systems,  is  at  best  but  an 


5 ‘ Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  W orcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second 
Letter’  (1699),  p.  96. 


^f965.]  THE  SECOND  ‘ REPLY  ’ TO  STILLINGFLEET. 


435 


imperious  way  of  begging  the  question  and  assuming  to  themselves,  under 
the  pretence  of  zeal  for  the  cause  of  God,  a title  to  infallibility.  It  is  very 
becoming  that  men’s  zeal  for  truth  should  go  as  far  as  their  proofs,  but  not 
go  for  proofs  themselves.  He  that  attacks  received  opinions  with  anything 
but  fair  arguments  may,  I own,  be  justly  suspected  not  to  mean  well,  nor 
to  be  led  by  the  love  of  truth.  But  the  same  may  be  said  of  him  too  who 
so  defends  them.  An  error  is  not  the  better  for  being  common,  nor  truth 
the  worse  for  having  lain  neglected ; and,  if  it  were  put  to  the  vote  any- 
where in  the  world,  I doubt,  as  things  are  managed,  whether  truth  would 
have  the  majority,  at  least  whilst  the  authority  of  men,  and  not  the  examina- 
tion of  things,  must  be  its  measure.  The  imputation  of  scepticism  and  those 
broad  insinuations  to  render  what  I have  writ  suspected,  so  frequent  as  if 
that  were  the  great  business  of  all  this  pains  you  have  been  at  about  me, 
has  made  me  say  this  much,  my  lord.”1 

But  Locke  was  not  frightened.  When  Stillingfleet  taunted  him  with  being 
one  of  the  Unitarian  party,  but  afraid  so  to  acknowledge  himself,  he  answered 
— and  let  it  be  remembered  that  these  words  were  written  in  the  spring  of 
1698,  when  he  thought  he  was  about  to  die — “I  am  going,  my  lord,  to  a 
tribunal  that  has  a right  to  judge  of  thoughts,  and,  being  secure  that  I there 
shall  be  found  of  no  party  but  that  of  truth,  for  which  there  is  required 
nothing  but  the  receiving  truth  in  the  love  of  it,  I matter  not  much  of  what 
party  any  one  shall,  as  may  best  serve  his  turn,  denominate  me  here.  Your 
lordship’s  is  not  the  first  pen  from  which  I have  received  such  strokes  as 
these,  without  any  great  harm.  I never  found  freedom  of  style  did  me 
any  hurt  with  those  who  knew  me  ; and,  if  those  who  know  me  not  will 
take  up  borrowed  prejudices,  it  will  be  more  to  their  own  harm  than  mine. 
So  that  in  this  I shall  give  your  lordship  little  other  trouble,  but  my  thanks 
sometimes,  where  I find  you  skilfully  and  industriously  recommending  me 
to  the  world  under  the  character  you  have  chosen  for  me.  Only  give  me 
leave  to  say  that  if  the  ‘ Essay  ’ I shall  leave  behind  me  hath  no  other  fault 
to  sink  it  but  heresy  and  ‘ inconsistency  with  the  articles  of  the  Christian 
faith,’  I am  apt  to  think  it  will  last  in  the  world,  and  do  service  to  truth, 
even  the  truths  of  religion,  notwithstanding  the  imputation  laid  on  it  by  so 
mighty  a hand  as  your  lordship’s.”  2 

This  long  controversy  attracted  wide  attention  while 

1 ‘ Mr.  Locke’s  Keply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second 
Letter  ’ (1699),  pp.  406,  407. 

2 Ibid.,  pp.  98.  99. 


436 


CONTEOVEESY  : LATEE  WEITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


it  was  proceeding,  and  won  for  Locke  high  praise  from 
all  but  extreme  partisans  of  the  cause  that  Stillingfleet 
endeavoured  to  support.  “ If  those  gentlemen,”  Locke 
wrote,  after  finishing  his  last  letter,  “think  that  the 
bishop  hath  the  advantage,  not  by  making  good  one 
of  those  many  propositions  in  debate  between  us,  but 
by  asking  a question,  a personal  question,  nothing  to 
the  purpose,  I shall  not  envy  him  such  a victory.  In 
the  meantime,  if  this  be  all  they  say,  the  world,  that 
sees  not  with  their  eyes,  will  see  what  disputants  for 
truth  those  are  who  make  to  themselves  occasions  of 
calumny,  and  think  that  a triumph.  The  bishop  is  to 
prove  that  my  book  has  something  in  it  that  is  in- 
consistent with  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  all  that, 
upon  examination,  he  does  is  to  ask  me  whether  I believe 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  as  it  has  been  received  in 
the  Christian  church.  A worthy  proof!”1 2 * *  “I  have 
read  attentively  the  controversy  between  the  Bishop  of 
Worcester  and  Mr.  Locke,”  wrote  Leibnitz — not  a friendly 
critic — before  the  later  letters  had  been  published.  “I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  latter  will  come  well  out  of  the 
affair.  He  has  too  much  judgment  to  give  a handle  to 
‘messieurs  les  ecclesiastiques,’ who  are  the  natural  directors 
of  the  people,  and  whose  methods  must  be  followed  as  far 
as  possible  ; and  from  what  I have  seen  it  is  evident 
that  Mr.  Locke  justifies  himself  in  a very  able  manner.”5 
“For  my  part,”  said  Le  Clerc,  who  had  no  arrogance 
or  jealousy  to  bias  his  judgment,  “ I confess  I never  read  a 
dispute  managed  in  such  cool  blood,  and  with  such  skill 

1 Lord  King,  p.  196  ; Locke  to  King,  5 Nov.,  1698. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  196;  Leibnitz  to  Thomas  Burnet,  1697.  Leibnitz  began  in 

Locke’s  life-time  to  criticise  his  philosophical  doctrines,  and  some  of  these 

strictures  were  submitted  to  him  by  their  mutual  friend  Thomas  Burnet. 


iEt.^65.]  THE  CONTROVERSY  WITH  STILLINGFLEET.  437 

and  exactness  on  the  one  side,  nor  on  the  other  so  unjustly, 
so  confusedly,  or  so  little  to  the  credit  of  the  writer.'’1 
In  answer  to  a letter  that  doubtless  expressed  those  senti- 
ments, Bishop  Burnet,  who  had  no  liking  for  Locke, 
wrote,  “ What  you  say  of  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  con- 
test with  Mr.  Locke  is  too  true.  The  dispute  was  certainly 
unworthy  of  him.  There  was  a gross  misrepresentation 
of  Mr.  Locke’s  notions,  which,  I hope,  is  now  at  an  end, 
though  it  had  been  more  to  the  bishop’s  honour  that  it 
had  never  been  begun.  But  every  man  does  not  know 
where  his  strength  lies.  While  there  is  visibly  a design 
to  throw  off  the  Christian  religion,  a just  zeal  against  that 
is  apt  to  raise  jealousies  both  of  persons  and  things  that 
have  no  relation  to  it,  but  are  very  innocent.”  2 

Stilhngfleet’s  attack  was  only  the  most  formidable  of 
several  that  began  in  1696  to  be  made  upon  the  ‘ Essay 
concerning  Human  Understanding.’  “ My  book,”  Locke 
wrote  to  Molyneux,  early  in  1697,  “ crept  into  the  world 
about  six  or  seven  years  ago  without  any  opposition,  and 
has  since  passed  amongst  some  for  useful  and  amongst  the 
least  favourable  for  innocent.  But,  as  it  seems  to  me,  it 
is  agreed  by  some  men  that  it  should  no  longer  do  so. 
Something,  I know  not  what,  is  at  last  spied  out  in  it  that 
is  like  to  be  troublesome,  and  therefore  it  must  be  an  ill 
book  and  be  treated  accordingly.  ’Tis  not  that  I know 
anything  in  particular,  but  some  things  that  have  hap- 
pened at  the  same  time  together  suggest  this.  What  it 
will  produce,  time  will  show.  But  ‘ magna  est  veritas  et 
praevalebit.’  That  keeps  me  at  perfect  ease  in  this  and 

1 Le  Clerc,  * Eloge  de  M.  Locke.’ 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Gilbert  Burnet  to  Le  Clerc  (un- 
dated). This  is  part  of  the  same  letter  (endorsed  “ Mr.  Sarum,”  Burnet 
having  signed  it  “ Gil.  Sarum  ”)  which  was  quoted  from  on  p.  416. 


! 


I 


438 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


whatever  I write ; for,  as  soon  as  I shall  discover  it  not 
to  be  truth,  my  hand  shall  be  the  forwardest  to  throw  it 
in  the  hre.”  1 “ This  excellent  treatise,”  wrote  Samuel 

Bolde,  the  Dorsetshire  clergyman  who  had  written  in 
defence  of  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’  “ having 
been  received  through  all  the  learned  world  with  great 
approbation,  a mighty  outcry  was  at  last,  on  the  sudden, 
raised  against  it  here  at  home.  There  was,  no  doubt,  some 
reason  or  other  why  so  many  hands  should  be  employed, 
just  at  the  same  time,  to  attack  and  batter  this  ‘ Essay,’ 
though  what  was  the  weighty  consideration  which  put 
them  all  in  motion  may,  perhaps,  continue  long  a secret. 
Several  persons  have  discovered  their  inclination  to  find 
fault  with  the  treatise  by  nibbling  at  several  passages  in 
it,  which  it  appears  they  did  not  understand,  and  concern- 
ing which  they  have  been  at  a loss  how  to  express  them- 
selves intelligibly.  Some  have  spoken  handsomely  of  the 
author.  Others  have  treated  that  incomparable  gentleman 
with  a rudeness  peculiar  to  some  who  make  a profession 
of  the  Christian  religion  and  seem  to  pride  themselves  in 
being  the  clergy  of  the  church  of  England.  But,  what- 
ever reputation  may  accrue  to  them  on  either  of  those 
accounts,  their  conduct  doth  not  contribute  anything  to 
the  honour  either  of  the  one  or  of  the  other.”  2 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  175;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  22  Feb., 
1696-7. 

2 Bolde,  ‘ Some  Considerations  on  the  Principal  Objections  and  Arguments 
which  have  been  published  against  Mr.  Locke’s  Essay  of  Human  Under- 
standing ’ (1669),  p.  60.  This  very  able  pamphlet  puts  in  a clear  light 
the  points  at  issue  in  the  controversy,  and  contains  a masterly  defence  of 
Locke’s  position.  Bolde  afterwards  handled  one  branch  of  the  subject  at 
greater  length  in  ‘ A Discourse  concerning  the  Resurrection  of  the  same 
Body ; with  Two  Letters  concerning  the  necessary  Immateriality  of  Created 
Thinking  Substance  ’ (1705,  pp.  ix.,  206).  Bolde  was  born  about  the  year 


1698.  “I 
Mt.  65.  J 


OTHER  ATTACKS  ON  THE  c ESSAY.* 


439 


Among  these  assailants  were  John  Norris,  the  disciple 
of  Malebranche  and  precursor  of  Butler,  Thomas  Burnet, 
the  author  of  ‘ The  New  Theory  of  the  Earth,’  and  John 
Serjeant,  a Roman  catholic  priest.  “ Shall  I not  be  quite 
slain,  think  you,  amongst  so  many  notable  combatants ; 
and  the  Lord  knows  how  many  more  to  come  ? ” 1 Locke 
wrote  when  the  tide  was  setting  in.  But  he  replied  to 
none  of  them,  except  here  and  there  incidentally  in  the 
works  that  have  been  already  described.  “ I know  better 
to  employ  the  little  time  my  business  and  health  afford 
me,”  he  said,  “ than  to  trouble  myself  with  the  little 
cavillers  who  may  either  he  set  on,  or  be  forward  in  hope 
of  recommending  themselves,  to  meddle  in  this  contro- 
versy.” 2 


The  third  edition  of  the  1 Essay  concerning  Human 
Understanding,’  published  in  1695,  having  been  only  a 
reprint  of  the  second,  Locke  occupied  much  of  his  small 
leisure  during  the  next  few  years  in  preparing  for  a fourth 

1648.  As  vicar  of  Shapwick,  in  Dorset,  he  got  into  trouble  with  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities  on  account  of  his  liberal  opinions  and  his  fearless 
utterance  of  them,  and  he  was  forced  to  resign,  or  ejected  from,  his  vicarage. 
But  he  was  rector  of  Steeple,  near  by,  from  1682  until  his  death  in  August, 
1787.  Besides  the  works  already  named,  and  some  others,  making  twenty 
in  all,  he  published  ‘ Man’s  Great  Duty  ’ (1675),  ‘ A Letter  on  Image  Wor- 
ship ’ (1680),  ‘ A Sermon  against  Persecution  ’ (1682),  ‘ A Plea  for  Modera- 
tion ’ (1682),  ‘ An  Exhortation  to  Charity,  addressed  to  the  Irish  Protestants  ’ 
(1689),  ‘ The  Duty  of  Christians  with  respect  to  Human  Interpretations  ’ 
(1717),  ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Church  Authority  ’ (1724),  and  ‘ A Help 
to  Devotion  ’ (1786). 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  235  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  11  Sept., 
1697. 

2 ‘ Mr.  Locke’s  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second 
Letter,’  p.  452. 


440 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


edition,  in  which  he  desired,  without  altering  the  original 
form  of  the  work,  to  clear  it  of  all  the  inaccuracies  that  he 
or  his  critics  could  detect,  and  to  incorporate  all  the  new 
thoughts  that  he  considered  pertinent  to  the  subject. 
The  strictures  of  Stillingfleet  and  others  did  not  suggest 
to  him  many  new  thoughts  or  convict  him  of  any  inac- 
curacies ; but  they  showed  the  expediency  of  correcting 
some  terms  and  phrases  in  order  to  render  his  meaning 
more  intelligible  and  freer  from  ambiguity  : it  would  have 
been  well,  indeed,  had  they  in  this  respect  induced  him  to 
make  more  corrections  than  he  finally  adopted.  Such  a 
careful  revision  seemed  to  him  all  the  more  necessary 
because,  besides  the  Latin  translation  of  the  ‘ Essay  ’ 
which  had  been  already  begun,  a French  one  was  also 
now  in  progress,  and,  as  these  would  introduce  the  work 
to  a far  larger  audience,  both  learned  and  unlearned,  than 
the  English  original  could  reach,  it  was  important  that, 
in  its  tri-lingual  issue,  it  should  be  made,  once  for  all,  as 
perfect  as  he  could  make  it. 

The  French  version  was  undertaken  by  Pierre  Coste, 
a friend  of  Le  Clerc’s,  who,  while  in  Amsterdam,  trans- 
lated ‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education  ’ and  ‘ The 
Keasonableness  of  Christianity,’  and  who,  having  there 
begun  also  to  translate  the  ‘ Essay  ’ in  the  spring  of  1697, 
came  over  shortly  afterwards  to  act  as  tutor  to  Frank 
Masham,  and  thus,  being  in  Locke’s  company  whenever 
he  was  at  Oates,  was  able  to  receive  from  him  constant 
assistance  in  his  work,  and  to  do  it  all  under  his  imme- 
diate superintendence.1  It  was  published  at  Amsterdam 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  pp.  208 — 256;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  10 
April,  1697,  and  10  Jan.,  1697-8;  Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke.’  “The 
author  being  present,”  says  Le  Clerc,  “ he  corrected  several  places  in  the 
original,  that  he  might  make  them  more  plain  and  easy  to  translate,  and  very 


441 


m76^6?:]  THE  FOURTH  edition  of  the  ‘essay.’ 

in  1700,  with  the  title,  ‘ Essai  Philosophiqne  concern- 
ant  l’Entendement  Hnmain ; ou  l’on  montre  qnelle  est 
1’Etendne  de  nos  Connaissances  Certaines  et  la  Maniere 
dont  nous  y parvenons.’ 1 

The  Latin  translation,  begun  as  we  have  seen  by 
Bichard  Burridge,  a friend  of  Molyneux’s,  in  the  autumn 
of  1695,  was  also  made  to  some  extent  under  Locke’s 
supervision,  portions  of  the  manuscript  being  sent  to  him 
to  correct.  It  was  published  in  London  in  1701  as  £ De 
Intellectu  Humano.’ 2 

The  fourth  English  edition,  dated  1700,  was  issued  in 
the  autumn  of  1699,  having  been  apparently  put  in  hand 
as  soon  as  the  third  edition  was  exhausted  in  the  previous 
January.3  It  bore  on  the  title-page  a new  motto,  which 
may  have  been  suggested  by  the  controversy  with  Stilling- 
fleet:  “ As  thou  knowest  not  what  is  the  way  of  the  spirit, 
nor  how  the  bones  do  grow  in  the  womb  of  her  that  is 
with  child,  even  so  thou  knowest  not  the  works  of  God, 
who  maketh  all.”  4 

To  the  controversy  with  Stillingfleet,  at  any  rate,  must 
he  attributed  a verbal  alteration  running  through  the 

carefully  revised  the  translation,  so  that  it  is  not  inferior  to  the  English  and 
often  more  clear.” 

1 Subsequent  editions  appeared  in  1728,  1729,  1736,  1742,  1750,  1755, 
1758,  and  1774. 

2 It  was  reprinted  at  Leipsig  in  1709,  at  Amsterdam  in  1729,  and  again 
at  Leipsig  in  1731,  with  prefaces  and  notes  hy  Gottlielf  Heinrich  Theile. 
The  first  German  translation  appeared  at  Konigsberg  in  1755. 

3 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p,  295  ; Locke  to  Thomas  Molyneux,  25  Jan., 
1698-9.  Locke  informed  Sloane,  on  the  2nd  of  December,  that  some 
weeks  before  he  had  ordered  a copy  of  this  fourth  edition  to  be  sent  to  him. 
The  fifth  edition,  with  a few  unimportant  corrections  and  additions  by 
Locke,  appeared  after  his  death,  in  1706. 

4 Ecclesiastes  xi.  5. 


442 


CONTEOVEESY  1 LATEE  WEITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


book,  “ determinate  ideas  ” or  “ determined  ideas  ” being 
generally  substituted  for  “ clear  and  distinct  ideas  ; ” and 
most  of  the  minor  additions  made  by  Locke  were  evidently 
designed  to  ward  off  the  attacks  of  any  future  critics  who, 
following  the  lead  of  Stillingfleet,  might  be  tempted  to 
engage  in  “ disputes  and  wranglings  ” by  opposing  their 
own  “ undetermined  ideas  ” to  any  vagueness  or  insuffi- 
ciency in  Locke’s  statement  of  his  views.1 

In  this  fourth  edition  he  also  included  two  new  and 
very  remarkable  chapters,  both  planned,  if  not  written,  in 
the  spring  of  1695. 2 One  on  “ association  of  ideas  ” 3 was 
a distinct  and  important  contribution  to  psychological 
study.  The  other,  on  “ enthusiasm,”  4 by  which  term 
Locke  meant  “ a religious  sort  of  madness,”  was  in  curious 
contrast  to  much  of  his  later  writing.  In  it  he  eloquently 
and  forcibly  condemned,  not  the  cold,  hard,  metaphysical 
dogmas  by  which  ecclesiastics  like  Stillingfleet  prop  up  a 
structure  of  incredible  creeds  because  it  helps  them  to 
wealth  and  social  dignity  and  power,  but  the  yet  more  I 
deplorable  fanaticism  by  which  ignorant  devotees  bring 
themselves  to  believe  in  phantom  Gods  and  attribute  to 
every  whim  of  their  diseased  imaginations  a divine 
authority,  “substituting,”  as  he  said,  “in  the  room  of 
reason  and  revelation  the  ungrounded  fancies  of  a man’s 
own  brain,  and  assuming  them  for  a foundation  of  both 
opinion  and  conduct.” 


1 Instance  the  important  additions  to  b.  ii.,  ch.  xii.,  on  ‘ Complex  Ideas,’ 
to  b.  iii.,  cb.  xxviii.,  on  ‘ Our  Ideas  of  Substances,’  to  b.  iv.,  cb.  iii.,  on  ‘The 
Immateriality  of  the  Soul,’  to  b.  iv.,  cb.  vii.,  on  ‘Maxims,’  and  to  b.  iv., 
cb.  xvii.,  on  ‘ Reason.’ 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  pp.  101,  111,  112;  Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  8 
March,  1694-5,  and  26  April,  1698. 

3 B.  ii.,  cb.  xxiii.  4 B.  iv.,  cb.  xix. 


m764^67j  <0F  THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING.’  443 

“I  have  lately,”  Locke  wrote  to  Molyneux  in  the 
spring  of  1697,  “ got  leisure  to  think  of  some  additions  to 
my  hook,  against  the  next  edition,  and  within  these  few 
days  have  fallen  upon  a subject  that  I know  not  how  far 
it  will  lead  me.  I have  written  several  pages  on  it ; but 
the  matter,  the  farther  I go,  opens  the  more  upon  me, 
and  I cannot  yet  get  sight  of  any  end  of  it.  The  title  of 
the  chapter  will  be  ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’ 
which,  if  I shall  pursue  as  far  as  I imagine  it  will  reach, 
and  as  it  deserves,  will,  I conclude,  make  the  largest 
chapter  of  my  ‘Essay.’”1  The  fourth  edition  of  the 
‘ Essay  ’ appeared  without  it,  and  such  materials  as 
Locke  had  collected  for  it  were  not  published  till  after 
his  death,  when  the  anonymous  editor  apologised  for  the 
incomplete  form  of  the  work.  “ Such  particulars  as 
occurred  to  the  author  at  a time  of  leisure,”  we  are  told, 
“ he  set  down  in  writing,  intending,  if  he  had  lived,  to 
have  reduced  them  into  order,  and  to  have  made  a com- 
plete treatise.”2  The  fragment,  as  we  have  it,  confirms 
that  statement.  It  is  only  a collection  of  notes  for  an 
essay  or  discourse,  the  notes  often  repeating  one  another, 
and  sometimes  not  fitting  very  well  together.  But  the 
incoherence  almost  enhances  the  value  of  the  work  to  us, 
if  not  as  a scientific  treatise,  as  an  index  to  the  modest, 
earnest  temper  in  which  Locke  prepared  to  give  his  last 
message  to  the  world  as  an  apostle  of  truth.  Thus  ‘ The 
Conduct  of  the  Understanding  ’ forms  a very  eloquent 
and  pathetic  sequel  to  some  other  of  his  writings  as  well 
as  to  the  ‘Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.’ 
Only  a brief  account  of  it,  however,  need  here  he  given. 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  194  ; Locke  to  Molyneux,  10  April,  1697. 

2 ‘Posthumous  Works  of  Mr.  Locke’  (1706).  Advertisement  to  the 
Reader.  The  editor  was  probably  Locke’s  cousin,  Peter  King. 


444 


controversy:  later  writings. 


[Chap.  XIV. 


Locke  began  by  complaining  that  “ the  last  resort  a man  has  recourse  to, 
in  the  conduct  of  himself,  is  his  understanding,”  and  by  exposing  the  folly 
of  this  neglect  of  the  most  important  of  all  means  towards  right  action. 

“ No  man  ever  sets  himself  about  anything  but  upon  some  view  or  other 
which  serves  him  for  a reason  for  what  he  does.  Whatsoever  faculties  he 
employs,  the  understanding,  with  such  light  as  it  has,  well  or  ill  informed, 
constantly  leads ; and  by  that  light,  true  or  false,  all  his  operative  powers 
are  directed.  The  will  itself,  how  absolute  and  uncontrollable  soever  it  may 
be  thought,  never  fails  in  its  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  the  understanding. 
Temples  have  their  sacred  images,  and  we  see  what  influence  they  have 
always  had  over  a great  part  of  mankind ; but,  in  truth,  the  ideas  and 
images  in  men’s  minds  are  the  invisible  powers  that  constantly  govern  them, 
and  to  these  they  all  universally  pay  a ready  submission.  It  is,  therefore, 
of  the  highest  concernment  that  great  care  should  be  taken  of  the  under- 
standing, to  conduct  it  right  in  the  search  of  knowledge,  and  in  the  judgments 
it  makes.”1  How,  in  his  opinion,  that  ought  to  be  done,  he  proceeded  to 
show. 

“ There  are  three  miscarriages  that  men  are  guilty  of  in  reference  to  their 
reason,  whereby  this  faculty  is  hindered  in  them  from  that  service  it  might 
do  and  was  designed  for.”  “ The  first  is  of  those  who  seldom  reason  at 
all,  but  do  and  think  according  to  the  example  of  others,  whether  parents, 
neighbours,  ministers,  or  whom  else  they  are  pleased  to  make  choice  of  to 
have  an  implicit  faith  in,  for  the  saving  of  themselves  the  pains  and  trouble 
of  thinking  and  examining  for  themselves.”  “ The  second  is  of  those  who 
put  passion  in  the  place  of  reason  and,  being  resolved  that  shall  govern 
their  actions  and  arguments,  neither  use  their  own  nor  hearken  to  other 
people’s  reason  any  further  than  it  suits  their  humour,  interest,  or  party ; 
and  these,  one  may  observe,  commonly  content  themselves  with  words 
which  have  no  distinct  ideas  to  them,  though  in  other  matters  that  they 
come  to  with  an  unbiassed  indiflerency  they  want  not  abilities  to  talk  and 
hear  reason.”  “ The  third  sort  is  of  those  who  readily  and  sincerely  follow 
reason  but,  for  want  of  having  that  which  one  may  call  large,  sound, 
roundabout  sense,  have  not  a full  view  of  all  that  relates  to  the  question, 
and  may  be  of  moment  to  decide  it.  We  are  all  short-sighted,  and  very 
often  see  but  one  side  of  a matter ; our  views  are  not  extended  to  all  that 
has  a connection  with  it.  From  this  defect  I think  no  man  is  free.  We 
see  but  in  part,  and  we  know  but  in  part ; and  therefore  ’tis  no  wonder  we  j 


1 ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  § 1. 


iEt.V™:]  MISCARRIAGES  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING.  445 

conclude  not  right  from  our  partial  views.  This  might  instruct  the  proudest 
esteemer  of  Lis  own  parts  how  useful  it  is  to  talk  and  consult  with  others, 
even  such  as  come  short  of  him  in  capacity,  quickness,  and  penetration  ; 
for,  since  no  one  sees  all,  and  we  generally  have  different  prospects  of  the 
same  thing,  ’tis  not  incongruous  to  think,  nor  beneath  any  man  to  try, 
whether  another  may  not  have  notions  which  have  ’scaped  him  and  which 
his  reason  would  make  use  of  if  they  came  into  his  mind.”  “In  this  we 
may  see  why  some  men  of  study  and  thought,  that  reason  right  and  are 
lovers  of  truth,  do  make  no  great  advance  in  their  discoveries  of  truth. 
Error  and  truth  are  uncertainly  blended  in  their  minds.  Their  decisions 
are  lame  and  defective,  and  they  are  very  often  mistaken  in  their  judgments; 
the  reason  whereof  is,  they  converse  but  with  one  sort  of  men,  they  read 
but  one  sort  of  books,  they  will  not  come  in  the  hearing  but  of  one  sort  of 
notions.  The  truth  is,  they  canton  out  to  themselves  a little  Goshen  in 
the  intellectual  world,  where  light  shines,  and,  as  they  conclude,  day  blesses 
them ; but  the  rest  of  that  vast  expanse  they  give  up  to  night  and  darkness, 
and  so  avoid  coming  near  it.  They  have  a pretty  traffic  with  known  corre- 
spondents in  some  little  creek : within  that  they  confine  themselves  and 
are  dexterous  managers  enough  of  the  wares  and  products  of  that  corner, 
but  will  not  venture  out  into  the  great  ocean  of  knowledge,  to  survey  the 
riches  that  nature  hath  stored  other  parts  with,  no  less  genuine,  no  less 
solid,  no  less  useful,  than  what  has  fallen  to  their  lot  in  the  admired  plenty 
and  sufficiency  of  their  own  little  spot,  which  to  them  contains  whatsoever 
is  good  in  the  universe.”1 

But  can  men  hope  to  do  more  than  live  within  the  small  circle  of  glim- 
mering light  which  they  call  day  ? or  shall  they  be  wise  in  venturing  upon 
commerce  outside  the  puny  creek  that  they  know  how  to  navigate  ? Yes, 
answered  Locke.  “We  are  born  with  faculties  and  powers  capable  almost 
of  anything — such,  at  least,  as  would  carry  us  farther  than  can  be  easily 
imagined ; but  ’tis  only  the  exercise  of  those  powers  which  gives  us  ability 
and  skill,  and  leads  us  towards  perfection.”  See  what  grace  and  agility, 
what  strength  and  endurance,  the  body  can  be  endowed  with,  if  it  is  pro- 
perly trained  from  infancy ; and  it  is  the  same  with  the  mind.  “Practice 
makes  it  what  it  is;  and  most  even  of  those  excellences  which  are  looked  on 
as  natural  endowments  will  be  found,  when  examined  into  more  narrowly, 
to  be  the  product  of  exercise,  and  to  be  raised  to  that  pitch  only  by  repeated 
actions  ” Natural  faculties  are  great  gifts  ; hut  acquired  habits  are  of 


1 ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  § 3. 


446 


CONTROVERSY  : LATER  WRITINGS. 


[Chap.  XIV 


more  value ; and  there  are  not  many  ploughmen  or  country  hedgers  who 
could  not  have  been  made  good  painters  or  musicians,  great  statesmen,  or 
wise  philosophers,  under  proper  training.  “ Defects  and  weaknesses  in  men’s 
understandings  come  from  a want  of  right  use  of  their  minds.  There  is 
often  a complaint  of  a want  of  parts,  when  the  fault  lies  in  want  of  a due 
improvement  of  them.”  1 

About  the  fundamental  business  of  all,  “ the  getting  clear  and  determined 
ideas  and  the  employment  of  our  thoughts  about  them  rather  than  about 
sounds  put  for  them,”  Locke  here  said  little,  having  said  so  much  about  it 
in  his  ‘ Essay ; ’ but  he  protested  very  earnestly  against  the  adoption  of 
sham  ideas,  under  the  name  of  “ principles.”  “ ’Tis  not  unusual  to  see  men 
rest  their  opinions  upon  foundations  that  have  no  more  solidity  than  the 
propositions  built  on  them  and  embraced  for  their  sake.  Such  foundations 
are  these  and  the  like : ‘ The  founders  or  leaders  of  my  party  are  good 
men,  and  therefore  their  tenets  are  true  ; ’ ‘ It  is  the  opinion  of  a sect  that 
it  is  erroneous,  and  therefore  it  is  false  ; ’ ‘ It  hath  been  long  received  in 
the  world,  and  therefore  it  is  true ; ’ or,  ‘ It  is  new,  and  therefore  it  is 
false.’  These  and  many  the  like,  which  are  by  no  means  the  measures  of 
truth  and  falsehood,  the  generality  of  men  make  the  standards  by  which 
they  accustom  their  understandings  to  judge ; and  thus,  they  falling  into 
a habit  of  determining  truth  and  falsehood  by  such  wrong  measures,  ’tis  no 
wonder  they  should  embrace  error  for  certainty  and  be  very  positive  in 
things  they  have  no  ground  for.”  He  who  resolves  to  take  nothing  upon 
trust,  and  holds  to  that  resolve,  is  in  the  right  way  of  knowing  much  and 
living  well.2 

The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  get  rid  of  prejudice — “ this  great  and  dangerous 
impostor,  prejudice,  who  dresses  up  falsehood  in  the  likeness  of  truth,  and 
so  dexterously  hoodwinks  men’s  minds  as  to  keep  them  in  the  dark,  with  a 
belief  that  they  are  in  the  light.”  “He  that  would  acquit  himself  as 
a lover  of  truth  must  do  two  things  that  are  not  very  common  nor  very 
easy.  He  must  not  be  in  love  with  any  opinion,  or  wish  it  to  be  true, 
till  he  knows  it  to  be  so,  and  then  he  will  not  need  to  wish  it.  He  must 
do  that  which  he  will  find  himself  very  averse  to,  as  judging  the  thing  unne- 
cessary, or  himself  incapable  of  doing  it ; he  must  try  whether  his  principles 
be  certainly  true  or  not,  and  how  far  he  may  rely  upon  them.”  “ In  these 
two  things — namely,  an  unequal  indifference  for  all  truth  (I  mean,  the  re- 


1 ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  § 4. 

2 Ibid.,  §§  5,  6. 


MISCARRIAGES  OF  THE  UNDERSTANDING. 


447 


ceiving  it  in  the  love  of  it  as  truth,  hut  not  loving  it  for  any  other  reason 
before  we  know  it  to  he  true),  and  in  the  examination  of  our  principles,  and 
not  receiving  any  for  such,  nor  building  on  them  till  we  are  fully  convinced, 
as  rational  creatures,  of  their  solidity  and  certainty — consists  that  freedom 
of  the  understanding  which  is  necessary  to  a rational  creature,  and  without 
which  it  is  not  truly  an  understanding.  ’Tis  conceit,  fancy,  extravagance, 
anything  rather  than  understanding,  if  it  must  be  under  the  constraint  of 
receiving  and  holding  opinions  by  the  authority  of  their  own,  not  fancied 
but  perceived,  evidence.  This  was  rightly  called  imposition,  and  is  of  all 
other  the  worst  and  most  dangerous  sort  of  it.”  1 

“These,”  said  Locke,  “are  the  common  and  most  general  miscarriages 
which  I think  men  should  avoid  or  rectify  in  a right  conduct  of  their  under- 
standings, and  should  he  particularly  taken  care  of  in  education  ; the  busi- 
ness whereof  is  not  to  perfect  a learner  in  all  or  any  one  of  the  sciences, 
but  to  give  his  mind  that  freedom,  that  disposition,  and  those  habits  that 
may  enable  him  to  attain  any  part  of  knowledge  he  shall  apply  himself  to, 
or  stand  in  need  of  in  the  future  course  of  his  life.”  He  next  proposed  to 
point  out  some  of  the  mental  infirmities  that  are  like  diseases  of  the  body, 
“ each  whereof  clogs  and  disables  the  understanding  to  some  degree,  and 
therefore  deserves  to  be  looked  after  and  cured  ; ” 2 and  to  this  part  of  his 
subject  all  the  remaining  sections  of  the  essay  are  devoted.  The  list  is 
incomplete,  however,  and  as  regards  those  mental  ailments  that  are  touched 
upon,  we  have  only  the  rough  sketches  that  Locke  evidently  intended,  had 
health  and  leisure  permitted  it,  to  rearrange  and  elaborate. 

Overloading  of  the  mind  was  the  first  perversion  of  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties of  which  he  complained,  and  he  pointed  out  two  rival  maladies  likely 
to  ensue  from  it.  “ There  are  those  who  are  very  assiduous  in  reading, 
and  yet  do  not  much  advance  their  knowledge  by  it.”  They  either  allow 
themselves  no  time  in  which  to  draw  conclusions  from  the  mass  of  infor- 
mation which  they  cram  into  themselves,  but  do  not  digest ; or  else  they 
jump  at  hasty  conclusions  that  are  only  useless  or  even  mischievous  to 
them.  “ He  that  makes  no  reflections  on  what  he  reads  only  loads  his 
mind  with  a rhapsody  of  tales  fit  in  winter  nights  for  the  entertainment  ot 
others ; and  he  that  will  improve  every  matter  of  fact  into  a maxim  will 
abound  in  contrary  observations  that  will  be  of  no  other  use  but  to  perplex 
and  pudder  him  if  he  compares  them,  or  else  to  misguide  him  if  he  gives 


1 ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  §§  10 — 12. 

2 Ibid.,  § 12. 


448 


controversy:  later  writings. 


[Chap.  Xrv. 


himself  up  to  the  authority  of  that  which  for  its  novelty  or  for  some  other 
fancy  best  pleases  him.”  “ Between  these,  those  seem  to  do  best  who, 
taking  material  and  useful  hints,  sometimes  from  single  matters  of  fact,  carry 
them  in  their  minds  to  be  judged  of  by  what  they  shall  find  to  confirm  or 
reverse  these  imperfect  observations,  which  may  be  established  into  rules  fit 
to  be  relied  on  when  they  are  justified  by  a sufficient  and  wary  induction  of 
particulars.”  1 

But  there  must  be  no  bias  in  these  observations.  “ Truth  is  all  simple, 
all  pure,  will  bear  no  mixture  of  anything  else  with  it.  ’Tis  rigid  and  in- 
flexible to  any  bye  interests ; and  so  should  the  understanding  be,  whose 
use  and  excellency  lies  in  conforming  itself  to  it.  Men  are  apt  to  excuse 
themselves,  and  think  they  have  reason  to  do  so,  if  they  have  but  a pretence 
that  it  is  for  God  or  a good  cause- — that  is,  in  effect,  for  themselves,  their 
own  persuasion  or  party ; for  those,  in  their  turn,  the  several  sects  of  men, 
especially  in  matters  of  religion,  entitle  ‘ God  ’ and  ‘ a good  cause.’  But 
God  requires  not  men  to  wrong  or  misuse  their  faculties  for  him,  nor  to  lie 
to  others  or  themselves  for  his  sake  ; which  they  purposely  do  who  will  not 
suffer  their  understandings  to  have  right  conceptions  of  the  things  proposed 
to  them,  and  designedly  restrain  themselves  from  having  just  thoughts  of 
everything,  as  far  as  they  are  concerned  to  inquire.  And  as  for  a good 
cause,  that  needs  not  such  ill  helps  ; if  it  be  good,  truth  will  support  it,  and 
it  has  no  need  of  fallacy  or  falsehood.”  2 

Indifference,  Locke  urged,  giving  to  the  word  a significance  which  it  has 
now  almost  lost,  is  the  great  requisite  to  healthy  training  of  the  understand- 
ing. “ We  should  keep  a perfect  indifferency  for  all  opinions,  not  wish  any 
of  them  true  or  try  to  make  them  appear  so,  but,  being  indifferent,  receive 
and  embrace  them  according  as  evidence,  and  that  alone,  gives  the  attesta- 
tion of  truth.  They  that  do  this  will  always  find  the  understanding  has 
perception  enough  to  distinguish  between  evidence  or  no  evidence,  betwixt 
plain  and  doubtful ; and,  if  they  neither  give  nor  refuse  their  assent  but  by 
that  measure,  they  will  be  safe  in  the  opinions  they  have ; which  being, 
perhaps,  but  few,  this  caution  will  have  also  this  good  in  it,  that  it  will  put 
them  upon  considering,  and  teach  them  the  necessity  of  examining,  more 
than  they  do  ; without  which  the  mind  is  but  a receptacle  of  inconsistencies, 
not  the  storehouse  of  truths.  They  that  do  not  keep  up  this  indifferency 
in  themselves  for  all  but  truth,  not  supposed,  but  evidenced  in  themselves, 


1 ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  § 13. 

2 Ibid.,  § 14. 


1697— 1700.T 
/Et.  64— 67.  J 


THE  VALUE  OF  INDIFFERENCE. 


449 


put  coloured  spectacles  before  tlieir  eyes  and  look  on  things  through  false 
glasses,  and  then  think  themselves  excused  for  following  the  false  appear- 
ances which  themselves  put  upon  them.  I never  saw  any  reason  yet  why 
truth  might  not  be  trusted  to  its  own  evidence.  I am  sure,  if  it  be  not  able 
to  support  it,  there  is  no  fence  against  error,  and  then  truth  and  falsehood 
are  but  names  that  stand  for  the  same  things.  Evidence,  therefore,  is  that 
by  which  alone  every  man  is  and  should  be  taught  to  regulate  his  assent ; 
who  is  then,  and  then  only,  in  the  right  way,  when  he  follows  it.”  “ Throw- 
ing wholly  by  the  opinions  of  others,  he  ought,  as  much  as  he  can,  to 
examine  the  question  in  its  source.  This,  I own,  is  no  easy  thing  to  do  i 
but  I am  not  inquiring  the  easy  way  to  opinion,  but  the  right  way  to  truth, 
which  they  must  follow  who  will  deal  fairly  with  their  own  understandings 
and  their  own  souls.”1 

Those  solemn  words  were  not  the  last  in  this  excellent 
fragment  on  ‘ The  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  nor 
the  last  in  which  Locke  summed  up  all  his  teaching  to 
the  world  as  to  the  way  in  which  men  should  learn  to 
become  reasonable  creatures.  But  they  contained  the 
kernel  of  that  teaching,  and  the  key  to  all  his  life  and  all 
his  work  in  philosophy.2 

1 ‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,’  § § 84,  35. 

3 At  some  time  after  he  had  taken  up  his  residence  at  Oates,  Locke  wrote, 
probably  for  the  use  of  Frank  Masham,  a very  clever  little  handbook, 
entitled  ‘ Elements  of  Natural  Philosophy,’  which  was  first  published  in  ‘ A 
Collection  of  Several  Pieces  of  Mr.  John  Locke  ’ (1720).  In  the  spring  of 
1702-3  he  wrote  a short  ‘ Essay  on  Miracles,’  which  appeared  in  ‘ The 
Posthumous  Works  of  Mr.  John  Locke  ’ (1706).  Brief  mention  will  be 
made  in  the  next  chapter  of  his  commentaries  on  Paul’s  Epistles. 

Vol.  II.— 29 


CHAPTER  XY. 

Last  Years. 

[1696—1704.] 

BEFORE  we  follow  Locke  through  the  closing  years 
of  his  life,  when  ill-health  forbade  his  having  any 
further  share  in  public  business,  and  even  hindered  him 
from  doing  much  more  literary  work,  we  must  take  some 
account  of  his  miscellaneous  occupations  and  concerns 
during  the  years  in  which,  as  we  have  just  seen,  he  was 
busily  employed  both  as  a commissioner  of  trade  and 
plantations  and  as  an  author.  We  must  also  go  farther 
back  to  make  acquaintance  with  a young  man  who, 
though  his  name  has  not  yet  occurred  in  our  narrative, 
was  not  at  this  time  a new  companion  to  Locke. 

Yery  little  is  recorded  about  Locke’s  Somersetshire 
kinsfolk,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  all  through  the 
time  subsequent  to  his  departure  from  Pensford,  nearly 
fifty  years  ago,  to  become  a Westminster  boy,  he  had 
maintained  very  intimate  relations  with  them,  and  now 
one  of  the  number  begins  to  take  a prominent  place  in 
his  biography.  His  uncle,  Peter  Locke,  had  two  daugh- 
ters, Anne  and  Elizabeth.  Elizabeth  married  twice  and 
had  two  sons,  John  Bonville  and  Peter  Stratton,  with, 
whose  names  we  meet  occasionally,  and  to  whom  he  did 
many  kindnesses.  Bonville  was  in  due  time  established 


1696.  1 
.St.  64.  J 


PETEB  KING. 


451 


in  London,  and  Stratton  resided  at  his  father’s  place, 
Whitsun  Court,  near  Bristol.  Locke’s  other  cousin, 
Anne,  became  the  wife  of  Jeremy  King,  a grocer  of 
Exeter,  and  her  son  Peter  was  horn  in  1669.  This  child, 
after  such  schooling  as  would  usually  be  given  to  a 
tradesman’s  son,  was  set  to  work  in  his  father’s  shop. 
Locke,  during  one  of  his  visits  to  Somersetshire — pro- 
bably the  visit  that  he  paid  just  before  going  to  Holland 
— met  with  the  boy,  was  pleased  with  him,  and  resolved 
to  place  him  in  a different  way  of  life.1  From  this  time 
Peter  King  was  almost  his  adopted  child. 

Whether  Locke  first  put  him  to  school  in  England  is 
not  stated  ; but  at  some  period  during  his  stay  in  Holland 
he  sent  for  him  to  complete  his  education  in  Leyden 
University.  Thence  young  King  returned  to  England, 
apparently  in  1690,  with  ‘ An  Inquiry  into  the  Constitu- 
tion and  Discipline  of  the  Primitive  Church  ’ among  his 
luggage — a work  of  which  the  theme  and  style  fairly 
indicated  the  bent  of  his  mind,  and  which  was  published 
in  1691.  He  desired  to  become  a clergyman,  but  had 
conscientious  scruples  about  entering  the  established 
church,  and  therefore,  at  Locke’s  instigation,  enrolled 
himself  as  a student  of  the  Middle  Temple,  and  devoted 
himself  to  legal  pursuits  ; not,  however,  to  the  neglect  of 
theology,  as  appears  from  a very  learned  ‘ History  of  the 
Apostles’  Creed,  with  Critical  Observations  on  its  Several 
Articles,’  which  he  published  in  1702. 

Thus,  though  as  yet  we  have  very  few  traces  of  their 
intercourse,  it  is  clear  that,  during  nearly  all  the  years 

1 Campbell,  ‘Lives  of  the  Lord  Chancellors’  (1849),  vol.  iv.,  p.  551. 
Lord  Campbell,  in  his  memoir  of  Lord  King,  disclosed  some  interesting 
facts  and  committed  some  curious  blunders.  For  the  former  I am  grateful 
to  him. 


452 


LAST  TEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


when,  living  chiefly  at  Oates,  Locke  came  to  London 
from  time  to  time,  he  had  this  young  cousin  in  the 
Temple  to  look  after,  and  to  make  a companion  of  when 
he  had  leisure  for  any  society  that  was  not  forced  upon 
him  by  business.  It  is  clear  also  that  Peter  King  was 
often  at  Oates.  “ Your  company  here,”  Locke  wrote  to 
him  thence,  three  weeks  after  the  8th  of  June,  1698, 
when  he  was  called  to  the  bar,1  “ had  been  ten  times 
better  than  any  the  best  excuses  you  could  send.  But 
you  may  now  pretend  to  be  a man  of  business,  and  there 
can  be  nothing  said  to  you.  I wish  you  good  success  in 
it,  and  doubt  not  but  you  have  the  advice  of  those  who  are 
better  skilled  than  I in  the  matter.  But  yet  I cannot 
forbear  saying  this  much  to  you,  that  when  you  first  open 
your  mouth  at  the  bar,  it  should  be  in  some  easy  plain 
matter  that  you  are  perfectly  master  of.”2  “ I am  glad 

you  are  so  well  entered  at  the  bar,”  he  added  a few  days 
later,  on  hearing  that  King  had  started  on  the  western 
circuit,  and  that  he  had  taken  his  first  brief.  “It  is  my 
advice  to  you  to  go  on  so,  gently  by  degrees,  and  to 
speak  only  in  things  you  are  perfectly  master  of,  till  you 
have  got  a confidence  and  habit  of  talking  at  the  bar.  I 
have  many  reasons  for  it,  which  I shall  discover  to  you 
when  I see  you.”3 

We  have  not  much  information  about  Locke’s  occupa- 
tions during  these  years,  apart  from  the  official  and 
literary  work  forced  upon  him.  The  record  of  one  sig- 
nificant little  incident,  however,  has  come  down  to  us. 
In  November,  1696,  shortly  before  he  had  to  go  down  to 
Oates  for  the  winter,  after  his  first  five  months’  attendance 

1 Lord  Campbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  551. 

* Ibid.,  vol.  iv.,  p.  552  ; Locke  to  King,  27  June,  1698. 

8 Lord  King,  p.  251  ; Locke  to  King,  3 July,  1698. 


REBECCA  COLLIER,  THE  QUAKER  PREACHER. 


453 


at  the  council  of  trade,  he  accompanied  King  William 
the  Third  to  a meeting  of  the  society  of  friends,  the  latter 
being  anxious  to  have  some  personal  knowledge  of  the 
much  maligned  sect,  and  going  incognito.  Both  were 
pleased  with  the  service,  and  especially  with  the  ministra- 
tions of  Bebecca  Collier,  a preacher  of  some  fame  in  her 
day,  with  whom  Locke,  if  not  the  king,  appears  to  have 
had  a subsequent  interview.1  To  her  Locke  soon  after- 
wards sent  the  following  letter,  accompanied  by  two 
parcels  of  sweetmeats,  one  for  herself,  and  one  for  Kachel 
Bracken,  another  female  preacher  : — 

“ My  sweet  Friends,— A paper  of  sweetmeats  by  the  bearer,  to  attend 
your  journey,  comes  to  testify  the  sweetness  I found  in  your  society.  I 
admire  no  converse  like  that  of  Christian  freedom,  and  fear  no  bondage  like 
that  of  pride  and  prejudice.  I now  see  acquaintance  by  sight  cannot  reach 
the  height  of  enjoyment  which  acquaintance  by  knowledge  arrives  unto. 
Outward  hearing  may  misguide,  but  internal  knowledge  cannot  err.  We 
have  something  here  of  what  we  shall  have  hereafter,  to  ‘ know  as  we  are 
known.’  This  we,  with  other  friends,  were  at  the  first  view  partakers  of ; 
and  the  more  there  is  of  this  in  this  life,  the  less  we  need  inquire  of  what 
nation,  country,  party  or  persuasion  our  friends  are,  for  our  own  knowledge 
is  more  sure  to  us  than  another’s.  Thus  we  know  when  we  have  believed. 
Now  the  God  of  all  grace  grant  that  you  may  hold  fast  that  rare  grace  of 
charity  and  choose  that  unbiassed  and  unbounded  love  which,  if  it  decay 
not,  will  spring  up  mightily,  as  the  waters  of  the  sanctuary,  higher  and 
higher,  until  you  with  the  universal  church  swim  together  in  the  ocean  of 
divine  love.  Women,  indeed,  had  the  honour  first  to  publish  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  Lord  of  Love ; why  not  again  the  resurrection  of  the  Spirit  of 
Love?  And  let  all  the  disciples  of  Christ  rejoice  therein,  as  doth  your 
partner,  “ John  Locke.”  2 

A few  months  before  writing  thus  Locke  had  sent  a letter 

1 Mrs.  Thistlethwayte,  ‘ Memoirs  and  Correspondence  of  Dr.  Henry  Ba- 
thurst, Lord  Bishop  of  Norwich  ’ (1853),  p.  537. 

2 Ibid.;  Locke  to  Rebecca  Collier,  21  Nov.,  1696.  Mrs.  Thistlethwayte 
adds  : “ Transcribed  from  a copy  lent  me  by  Joseph  John  Gurney,  Norwich, 
4 Sept.,  1831.” 


454 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV 


to  Esther  Masham,  his  Laudabridis,  from  whom  during 
these  years  he  was  often  parted  for  much  longer  periods 
than  in  the  years  before  and  after ; and  this  letter  must 
here  he  quoted,  along  with  three  that  followed  it  at  in- 
tervals. They  throw  too  many  stray  gleams  of  light  upon 
his  life  and  temperament  for  us  to  be  able  to  dispense 
with  them. 

“ Upon  Mr.  Locke’s  being  made  a commissioner  of 
trade,  I writ  him  a letter  to  wish  him  joy  ; upon  which 
he  sent  me  the  following  letter,”  said  Esther  Masham  by 
way  of  preface  to  the  first. 

“ The  joy  which  you  so  forwardly  and  so  kindly  wrapped  up  in  your  letter 
proved  a fright  to  me  when  I opened  it.  What  could  a solemn  joy  be  less  to 
one  that  had  before  his  eyes  the  fresh  example  of  Mr.  H — - — , and  when  I 
received  your  joy  I knew  not  but  your  grandmother’s  prophecy  was  fulfilled 
and  that  I had  been  tumbled  into  the  meal  tub  in  my  sleep  without  knowing 
it.  But  that  which  set  the  flight  more  on  was  that  it  came  from  my  Lauda- 
bridis, whose  business,  you  know,  is  to  make  joy,  not  to  wish  it.  After  a 
little  time,  recovering  myself  enough  to  observe  some  other  expressions 
which  went  along  with  it,  I began  to  find  out  the  matter,  and  then  your 
wishes  had  their  effects.  For,  whatever  I may  expect  from  what  you  had 
in  view,  either  satisfaction  or  trouble  or  neither,  this  I am  sure,  your  taking 
part  in  what  concerns  me,  and  rejoicing  in  what  perhaps  you  view  but  on 
one  side,  extremely  pleases  me.  I take  it  as  I am  sure  you  meant  it.  I 
take  it  as  a sincere  and  great  mark  of  your  kindness  to  me,  which  the  more 
sensibly  affects  me  by  how  much  I more  esteem  and  wish  well  to  you  than 
to  all  the  young  ladies  I know.  Would  the  time  were  now  come  that  I 
could  return  you  your  wish  and  upon  a better  occasion  ! You  would  then 
see  how  much  your  Joannes  was  in  earnest  concerned  for  you.  I am  your 
most  faitliful  servant,  “ Joannes. 

“ Pray  give  my  humble  service  to  your  grandmother  and  the  rest  at 
Matching  Hall.”  1 


1 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  in  Miss  Palmer’s  possession,  vol.  i., 
pp.  18,  19. 


JEt.  04.  J 


LETTERS  TO  ESTHER  MASHAM. 


455 


Locke  wrote  at  least  once  again  to  Laudabridis  before 
he  returned  to  Oates. 

“ Dear  Dab, — Your  letter  the  last  week,  after  so  long  silence,  looks  as  if 
you  had  been  bottling  up  kindness  for  your  Joannes,  which  at  last  you  have 
let  run  to  the  rejoicing  of  his  heart  more  than  if  you  had  overflowed  to  him 
sack  and  sugar  or  cherry  brandy.  I was  not  a little  dejected  in  being  so  long 
out  of  your  thoughts,  as  appeared  to  me  by  your  no  words,  which  is  a very 
ill  sign  in  a prattle-box  of  your  age.  But  in  good  sooth  you  have  now 
made  me  amends,  and,  if  what  you  say  be  but  true,  Joannes  will  perk  up 
again  and  will  not  give  place  to  the  finest  powdered  spark  in  the  town.  I 
think  you  know  my  heart  pretty  well,  but  you  are  a little  mistaken  about 
my  head.  Though  it  belongs  now  to  a man  of  trade,  and  is  thwacked  with 
sea-coal  and  fuller’s  earth,  lampblack  and  hobnails  and  a thousand  such 
considerable  things,  yet  there  is  a room  empty  and  clear  kept  on  purpose 
for  the  lady,  and,  if  you  did  hut  see  how  you  sit  mistress  there  and  com- 
mand all  the  ambergris  and  pearls,  all  the  fine  silks  and  muslins  which  are 
in  my  storehouse,  you  would  not  complain  of  the  filling  of  a place  where 
you  would  sit  mistress. 

“ I thank  you  for  the  Bible  you  have  been  at  the  trouble  about  for  me, 
and  desire  it  may  be  sent  me.  When  I come  down  next,  I will  bring  it 
into  the  country  with  me,  and  you  and  I will  be  the  better  for  it. 

“Pray  present  my  humble  service  to  Sir  Francis  and  my  lady,  and  let 
my  lady  know  that,  almost  nobody  in  town  paying  now  at  sight,  I hope  she 
will  not  have  very  hard  thoughts  of  me  if  I remain  in  her  debt  for  a letter  I 
received  from  her  till  the  end  of  the  week. 

“ Remember  me  very  kindly  to  dear  Totty,  and,  when  you  go  to  Matching 
Hall,  pray  present  my  most  humble  service  there. 

“ I am,  D.  D.,  your  most  faithful  humble  servant, 

“ Joannes.”  1 

Another  letter,  dated  nearly  a year  afterwards,  was 
written  on  the  day  on  which  Locke  brought  before  his 
brother  commissioners  his  scheme  for  developing  the 
linen  manufacture  in  Ireland.  Neither  that  nor  the 
great  hustle  in  London  on  account  of  the  approaching 

1 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  vol,  i.,  pp.  20,  21 ; Locke  to  Esther 
Masham,  1 Sept.,  1G96. 


456 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


visit  of  the  czar  of  Muscovy  kept  him  from  thinking  of 
Laudabridis,  and  longing  to  be  with  her. 

“Dear  Dab,— There  was  nothing  wanting  to  complete  the  satisfaction 
your  obliging  letter  of  the  20th  brought  me  but  the  motive  from  yourself  of 
writing.  Had  inclination  procured  me  the  favour,  and  not  the  commands 
of  another,  you  had  made  me  perfectly  happy.  However,  the  good  and 
kind  things  you  say  in  it  make  a great  amends  for  that  defect,  and  I should 
be  very  unreasonable  if  so  many  good  words  you  have  put  into  your  letter 
should  not  hinder  -me  from  complaining.  They  are  more  and  better  than  I 
deserve,  and  you  may  believe  they  have  no  ordinary  charms  in  them,  since 
they  go  a great  way  towards  reconciling  me  to  my  old  and  great  enemy, 
winter.  At  least  you  wish  for  him  with  so  peculiar  a way  of  kindness  to  me 
that  I cannot  be  angry  with  you  for  doing  it ; for,  since  you  think  I cannot 
have  your  company  without  his,  I should  be  better  pleased  with  his  coming 
than  the  czar’s,  and  like  him  better,  crowned  as  he  is  with  turnips  and 
carrots,  than  the  great  duke  with  all  his  rubies  and  diamonds.  This  may 
convince  you  that,  whatever  keeps  me  in  town,  it  is  not  my  inclination. 
And  the  reproach  of  not  coming  to  you  whilst  I can  live  here  is  a little 
beside  the  matter.  Did  I stay  here  no  longer  than  I lived  here,  I should 
quickly  be  at  your  town  without  houses ; 1 for  in  this,  where  there  are 
so  many,  too  many,  I do  not  live.  To  live  is  to  be  where  and  with  whom 
one  likes.  Do  not,  therefore,  dear  Dab,  any  more  reproach  your  Joannes 
on  this  point,  as  you  will  answer  it  another  day.  You  huddled  up  the 
end  of  your  letter  to  get  to  the  man  in  black2  and  the  melon.  Which 
you  relished  best,  either  the  discourses  of  the  one  or  the  taste  of  the  other, 
I shall  know  when  I see  you.  For,  if  you  have  no  sweet  sayings  laid 
up  by  you  of  that  day’s  collection,  I know  what  I know.  I long  to  be 
examining  of  you  because  I am,  dear  Dab,  your  most  humble  and  most 
obedient  servant,  “Joannes.”3 

The  next  letter  was  written  seven  weeks  later,  after  a 
hard  day’s  work  at  the  council,  occupied  in  discussing  the 

1 “ Mr.  Locke  used  to  laugh  at  Mr.  Low,  the  minister  of  our  parish,  for 
calling  his  parish,  his  town,  when  there  were  not  two  houses  together  in 
it.” — E.M.’s  note. 

2 “ The  man  in  black  was  Mr.  Low.” — E.  M.’s  note. 

3 Letters  from  Friends  and  Relations,  vol.  i.,  pp.  23,  24;  John  Locke 
to  Esther  Masham,  28  August,  1697. 


] 007.  “I 
JSX.  65.  J 


LETTERS  TO  ESTHER  MASHAM. 


457 


trade  relations  between  England  and  Norway,  and  while 
Locke  was  completing  his  scheme  for  the  reform  of  the 
poor  laws.  It  was  provoked  by  some  playful  reproaches 
from  Landabridis  on  account  of  his  reported  civilities  to  a 
famous  dowager-duchess,  still  handsome,  though  no  longer 
in  her  prime.  “ I pretended  to  be  jealous  upon  his  visiting 
the  Duchess  of  Grafton,”  said  Laudabridis  in  explanation 
of  it. 

“ Beauty  and  honour  are  two  tempting  things,  but  a heart,  dear  Dab, 
that  you  are  possessed  of  is  proof  against  all  of  that  kind.  If  therefore 
you  have  any  more  jealousy  but  just  so  much  as  shows  your  concern  for 
me,  you  are  unjust  to  yourself  and  your  Joannes  too.  The  wishes  I made 
to  be  with  you  remain  the  same  I brought  to  town  with  me,  and,  if  you 
can  but  defend  me  against  your  own  fears,  I promise  you  to  defend  you 
against  all  the  duchesses  and  beauties  in  Christendom.  I believe  you  as 
innocent  and  sincere  as  the  country  can  produce,  and  I think  I may  pre- 
sume I shall  hold  out  longer  against  the  false  fashions  than  the  ill  air  of 
the  town  ; for  my  heart,  I am  sure,  is  better  than  my  lungs  ; so  that  your 
part  is  safe.  I do  not  much  rejoice  in  the  plump  you  make  such  show  of 
in  your  letter.  If  you  were  so  much  concerned  as  you  talk  of,  you  would 
pine  away  a little  in  my  absence.  But,  with  all  the  love  you  brag  of,  there 
is  not  that  sympathy  should  be.  If  there  were,  separation  would  always 
abate  something  of  your  good  mien,  as  it  always,  you  know,  does  of  mine, 
and,  as  thin  as  I am  when  I part  from  you,  I always  return  thinner.  But 
what  I am  abated  in  bulk,  I always  return  increased  in  affection.  If  this 
does  not  satisfy  you,  I will  make  up  the  rest  of  the  account  when  I see 
you  at  Oates,  where  I long  to  tell  you  how  much  and  how  sincerely  I am, 
dear  Dab,  your  most  humble  and  most  affectionate  servant, 

“ Joannes.”  1 

Locke  bad  been  very  ill  in  the  winter  before  those 
last  two  letters  were  written,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  had  in 
consequence  vainly  sought  to  be  discharged  from  his 
comissionership  of  trade.  He  was  ill  also  when  he  wrrote 
them,  and  all  through  the  five  months  and  more  in  which 

1 Letters  from  Friends  and  Relations,  vol.  i.,  pp.  26,  27 ; Locke  to  Esther 
Masham,  13  Oct.,  1697. 


458 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


lie  toiled  on  at  liis  official  duties ; and  lie  greatly  over- 
worked liimself  in  this  summer  and  autumn  of  1697. 
“ I have  had  less  health  and  more  business  since  I writ 
to  you  last,”  he  said  in  a letter  to  Molyneux,  dated  from 
Oates  in  January,  1697-8,  the  previous  letter  having  been 
written  in  September,  “than  ever  I had  for  so  long  to- 
gether in  my  life.  Business  kept  me  in  town  longer 
than  was  convenient  for  my  health.  All  the  day  from 
my  rising  was  commonly  spent  in  that,  and,  when  I 
came  home  at  night,  my  shortness  of  breath  and  panting 
for  wTant  of  it  made  me  ordinarily  so  uneasy  that  I had 
no  heart  to  do  anything ; so  that  the  usual  diversion  of 
my  vacant  hours  forsook  me,  and  reading  itself  was  a 
burden  to  me.  In  this  estate  I lingered  along  in  town 
to  December,  till  I betook  myself  to  my  wonted  refuge 
in  the  more  favourable  air  and  retirement  of  this  place. 
That  gave  me  presently  relief  against  the  constant  op- 
pression of  my  lungs,  whilst  I sit  still ; but  I find  such  a 
weakness  of  them  still  remain,  that,  if  I stir  ever  so 
little,  I am  immediately  out  of  breath.  The  very  dress- 
ing or  undressing  me  is  a labour  that  I am  fain  to  rest 
after  to  recover  my  breath  ; and  I have  not  been  once 
out  of  the  house  since  I came  last  hither.  I wish  never- 
theless that  you  were  here  with  me  to  see  how  well  I 
am';  for  you  would  find,  that,  sitting  by  the  fireside,  I 
could  bear  my  part  in  discoursing,  laughing,  and  being 
merry  with  you  as  well  as  ever  I could  in  my  life.  If 
you  were  here — and  if  wishes  of  more  than  one  could 
bring  you,  you  would  be  here  to  day — you  would  find 
three  or  four  in  the  parlour  after  dinner  who,  you  would 
say,  passed  their  afternoons  as  agreeably  and  as  jocundly 
as  any  people  you  have  this  good  while  met  with.  Do 
not,  therefore,  figure  to  yourself  that  I am  languishing 


-jjfel:]  FAILING  HEALTH  AND  SEEIOUS  ILLNESS.  459 

away  my  last  hours  under  an  unsociable  despondency 
and  the  weight  of  my  infirmity.  ’Tis  true,  I do  not  count 
upon  years  of  life  to  come ; hut,  I thank  God,  I have  not 
many  uneasy  hours  here  in  the  four  and  twenty ; and,  if 
I can  have  the  wit  to  keep  myself  out  of  the  stifling 
air  of  London,  I see  no  reason  but,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
I may  get  over  this  winter,  and  that  terrible  enemy 
of  mine  may  use  me  no  worse  than  the  last  did,  which, 
as  severe  and  as  long  as  it  was,  let  me  yet  see  another 
summer.” 1 

Neither  lack  of  wit  nor  wusli  of  his  broke  in  upon  the 
happy  retirement  in  which  Locke  had  resolved  to  live  as 
long  and  as  cheerfully  as  he  could,  but  to  meet  death  as 
a friend  when  it  came  ; but  in  less  than  a fortnight  after 
writing  that  pathetic  letter  he  was  in  London.  It  was  in 
the  last  week  of  January  that,  at  the  bidding  of  King 
William,  he  paid  the  unfortunate  visit  to  Kensington 
which  has  been  referred  to  ; and  from  its  effects  he  never 
recovered. 

He  was  so  ill  during  the  following  spring  that  he  thought 
his  end  was  near.  ‘ ‘ I am  in  doubt  whether  it  be  fit  for 
me  to  trouble  the  press  with  any  new  matter,”  he  wrote 
to  Molyneux,  alluding  to  the  unfinished  work  that  he 
had  on  hand,  and  especially  to  the  ‘ Keply  to  the  Bishop 
of  Worcester’s  Answer  to  his  Second  Letter,’  which  he  felt 
constrained  in  self-defence  to  write,  “ or,  if  I did,  I look 
upon  my  life  as  so  near  worn  out,  that  it  would  be  folly 
to  hope  to  finish  anything  of  moment  in  the  small  re- 
mainder of  it.”  He  was  anxious  that  Molyneux  should 
take  his  notes  and  scraps,  and,  “ if  there  were  anything 
useful  to  mankind”  in  them,  use  them  “ for  the  advantage 
of  truth  some  time  or  other.”  At  any  rate,  he  wanted  to 
1 * Familiar  Letters,’  p.  253 ; Locke  to  Molyneux,  10  Jam,  1697-8. 


460 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XT. 


see  his  friend.  “ Some  things  I would  be  glad  to  talk 
with  you  about  before  I die.”  1 

In  the  same  mood  he  wrote,  just  three  months  after  his 
return  to  Oates,  to  Benjamin  Furly,  at  Rotterdam.  “ I 
was  forced  to  go  to  town  in  December  ” — he  meant  to  say 
January — “last,  but  in  two  days’  stay  there  I was  almost 
dead,  and  the  third  I was  forced  to  fly  for  it  in  one  of 
the  bitterest  days  I have  known,  for  I verily  believe  one 
night’s  longer  stay  had  made  an  end  of  me.  I have  been 
here  ever  since,  and  in  the  chimney-corner,  and  write  this 
by  the  fireside  ; for  we  have  yet  no  warmth  from  the  sun, 
though  the  days  are  almost  at  their  full  length,  and  it 
was  but  yesterday  morning  that  it  snowed  very  hard  for 
near  two  hours  together.  This  great  indisposition  of  my 
health,  which  is  not  yet  recovered  to  any  degree,  keeps 
me  here  out  of  the  air  of  London  and  the  hustle  of  affairs. 
I am  little  furnished  with  news,  and  want  it  less.  I have 
lived  long  enough  to  see  that  a man’s  endeavours  are  ill 
laid  out  upon  anything  but  himself,  and  his  expectations 
very  uncertain  when  placed  upon  what  others  pretend  or 
promise  to  do.  I say  not  this  with  any  regard  to  my 
private  concerns,  which,  I own,  give  me  no  cause  of  com- 
plaint, hut  in  answer  to  what  you  say  with  public  views. 
Now  there  is  peace,  I wish  it  may  last  my  days.  If  not, 
I wish  I and  my  friends  may  escape  the  disorders  of  war. 
But,  after  all,  every  one  must  take  his  lot  according  tc 
the  fate  of  the  age  he  lives  in.  You  must  pardon  this1 
humdrum  from  a man  who  is  much  removed  from  the 
commerce  of  the  world,  and  yet,  when  he  has  the  pen  ir 
his  hand,  cannot  forbear  writing  something  to  an  old  anc 
valued  friend,  such  as  you  are.  I am  almost  quite  alone 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  pp.  266,  267  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  6 x\pril 
1698. 


it965.]  “ REMOVED  from  the  commerce  of  the  world.”  461 

here  now.  Sir  Francis,  my  lady  and  Mr.  Masham  are 
all  now  at  London,  and  have  been  for  some  weeks.  If  a 
wish  could  bring  yon  hither,  you  and  I in  a day  or  two 
would  have  a good  deal  of  talk  together.  I know  not 
what  we  may  do  when  we  are  spirits,  but  this  earthly 
cottage,  I perceive,  is  not  so  easily  removed.”  1 

Esther  Masham  was  in  London  just  then,  as  well  as  Sir 
Francis  and  my  lady  and  little  Totty,  now  dignified  with 
the  title  of  Mr.  Masham.  She  had  been  forced  to  go 
thither  because  her  uncle,  M.  de  la  Messangere,  had  died 
shortly  before,  leaving  his  property,  of  which  a consider- 
able share  was  to  come  to  her,  locked  up  by  a complicated 
will.  Locke  had  been,  and  continued  to  be,  her  adviser 
in  the  matter,  and  was  anxious  that  she  should  look  after 
her  interests,  but  he  grudged  her  absence,  and  sorely 
missed  her  tender  nursing  and  her  reading  to  him  of 
‘ Astraea  ’ and  other  romances  in  the  long  cold  evenings, 
and  he  said  or  clearly  implied  all  this  and  more  in  the 
little  letter  that  he  wrote  to  her  on  the  day  after  writing 
to  Furly.  Here  he  reminded  her  that,  without  her,  he 
was  as  lonely  as  the  shepherd  of  ‘ Astraea  ’ without  his 
shepherdess. 

“ It  is  better  to  be  taken  up  with  business  at  London  than  to  freeze  in 
the  country.  I can  scarce  be  warm  enough  to  write  this  by  the  fireside. 
You  should  therefore  be  so  gracieuse  to  come  and  comfort  your  poor  solitary 
berger,  who  suffers  here  under  the  deep  winter  of  frost  and  snow.  I do 
not  hyperbole  in  the  case.  The  day  Mr.  Coste  came  home  it  snowed  very 
hard  a good  part  of  the  morning.  My  affection  for  your  service  having 
thawed  me  a little,  I proceeded  to  your  business.  Matters  being  as  you 
state  them,  I see  nothing  at  present  you  have  more  to  do  but  to  press  for 
the  sending  your  legacies,  since  you  judge  it  best  to  have  them  in  your  own 
hands,  as  soon  as  you  can.  To  the  paying  your  grandfather’s  presently, 
there  is  no  manner  of  exception.  If  they  make  any  difficulty  in  remitting 


1 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  68  ; Locke  to  Furly,  28  April,  1698. 


462 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


your  grandmother’s,  we  shall  know  what  is  to  he  said  when  we  see  their 
objections,  or  what  they  demand.  When  I see  you  here,  I shall  have  a 
better  opportunity  to  discourse  you  at  large  by  word  of  mouth  how  you 
may  offer  them  such  satisfaction  about  the  r emplacement  as  in  reason  they 
cannot  refuse. 

“ My  thanks  to  my  daughter  1 for  the  favour  of  her  remembrance.  My 
service  to  her  and  all  the  rest  of  my  friends  in  town,  especially  Sir  Francis 
and  my  lady.  I am,  of  all  the  shepherds  of  the  forest,  gentile  berg  ere,  your 
most  humble  and  most  faithful  servant, 

“ Celadon  the  Solitary.”2 

The  Mashams  came  back  a few  days  after  that  letter 
was  written,  and  Betty  Clarke  came  with  them  to  cheer 
her  good  old  friend,  playfellow  and  “ husband”  with  her 
welcome  company.  But  somehow  Locke  found  a change 
in  her,  as  well  as  in  himself.  Feeling  that  he  was  growing 
very  old  now,  he  did  not  understand  that  little  girls  grow 
older  too.  Betty  seems  to  have  been  less  boisterous 
in  her  romps,  more  shy  in  her  behaviour,  than  she  had 
been.  “ My  Lady  Masham  has  said  something  to  me 
concerning  my  wife,”  he  wrote  to  her  father.  11  Since 
she  has  been  here  she  has  been  very  reserved.  If  it  be 
her  usual  temper,  ’tis  well.  If  it  be  present  thoughtful- 
ness, ’tis  worth  your  consideration  how  I shall  carry 
myself  to  her.  You  must  instruct  me,  for  I love  her.”3 
Whether  Betty  Clarke  had  anything  to  do  with  it,  or 
whether  all  the  credit  was  due  to  Esther  Masham  and  her 
stepmother  and  the  warm  weather,  Locke’s  health  and 

1 This  “ daughter  ” — of  whom  unfortunately  we  know  very  little,  though 
Esther  Masham  copied  for  us  into  her  letter  hook  one  very  lively  gossiping 
letter  from  her — was  probably  Esther’s  cousin,  Fanny  Compton,  now  wife 
or  widow  of  William  St.  John,  and  next  year  to  be  married  to  a second 
husband,  named  Gower. 

2 Letters  from  Friends  and  Relations,  in  Miss  Palmer’s  possession;  Locke 
to  Esther  Masham,  29  April,  1698. 

3 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  7 May,  1698. 


FROM  OATES  TO  LONDON. 


463 


1(198.  "I 
35t.  65.  J 

spirits  mended  as  summer  came,  though  he  was  never  so 
well  again  after  the  unfortunate  journey  up  to  town  and 
hack  again  through  the  cold  wind  and  snow  of  January. 
“ This  warm  day,  which  is  the  third  that  I have  been  able 
this  year  yet  to  pass  without  a fire,”  he  wrote  on  the  3rd 
of  July  to  his  cousin,  Peter  King,  “ gives  me  hopes  that 
the  comfortable  weather  which  I have  long  wished  for  is 
setting  in,  that  I may  venture  to  town  in  a few  days ; for 
I would  not  take  a journey  thither  to  be  driven  out  again 
presently,  as  I am  sure  our  late  cold  weather  would  have 
done,  for  my  lungs  are  yet  very  weak.”  1 

He  went  to  London  on  the  8th  of  July,2  having  hurried 
up  partly,  it  would  seem,  because  he  heard  that  Molyneus, 
after  so  many  promises  and  so  many  delays,  was  at  last 
on  his  way  to  visit  him.3  Molyneux  had  firmly  resolved 
to  come  to  England  this  year,  not  only  to  see  his  friend, 
hut  also  because  his  own  health  was  so  bad  that  he  had 
been  urged  to  try  the  waters  of  Bath.4  The  latter  pur- 
pose his  duties  as  member  of  the  Irish  parliament  and 
other  business  had  forced  him  to  abandon,  and  perhaps  he 
would  not  have  come  at  all  but  for  the  pathetic  letter 
from  Locke,  of  which  some  sentences  have  been  quoted. 
“ The  thing  I above  all  things  long  for,”  Locke  had  further 
said  in  that  letter,  “is  to  see  and  embrace  and  have  some 
discourse  with  you  before  I leave  this  world.  I meet 
with  so  few  capable  of  truth,  or  worthy  of  a free  conversa- 
tion, such  as  becomes  lovers  of  truth,  that  you  cannot 
think  it  strange  if  I wish  for  some  time  with  you  for  the 
exposing,  sifting  and  rectifying  of  my  thoughts.  If  they 

1 Lord  King,  p.  251  ; Locke  to  King,  8 July,  1698, 

5 Additional  MSS.,  no.  28336 ; Locke  to  Thoynard,  14  July,  1698. 

3 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  271  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  9 July,  1697. 

* Ibid.,  p.  262  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  15  March,  1697-8. 


464 


LAST  TEAKS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


have  gone  anything  farther  in  the  discovery  of  truth  than 
what  I have  already  published,  it  must  be  by  your  en- 
couragement that  I must  go  on  to  finish  some  things 
that  I have  already  begun.  I hoped  to  have  seen  you 
and  unravelled  to  you  that  which,  lying  in  the  lump 
unexplicated  in  my  mind,  I scarce  yet  know  what  it  is 
myself ; for  I have  often  had  experience  that  a man  can- 
not well  judge  of  his  own  notions  till,  either  by  setting 
them  down  on  paper,  or  in  discoursing  them  to  a friend, 
he  has  drawn  them  out  and,  as  it  were,  spread  them  fairly 
before  himself.  As  for  writing,  my  ill-health  gives  me 
little  heart  or  opportunity  for  it,  and  of  seeing  you  I 
begin  to  despair  ; and  that  which  very  much  adds  to  my 
affliction  in  this  case  is  that  you  neglect  your  own 
health,  on  considerations  I am  sure  that  are  not  worth 
your  health  ; for  nothing,  if  expectations  were  certainties, 
can  be  worth  it.”  That  was  in  reference  to  some  business 
that  Molyneux  had  mentioned  to  him.  “ You  must  lay 
by  that  business  for  a while  which  detains  you,  or  get 
some  other  body  into  it,  if  you  will  take  that  care  of  your 
health  this  summer  which  you  designed  and  it  seems  to 
require  ; and,  if  you  defer  it  till  the  next,  who  knows  but 
your  care  of  it  may  then  come  too  late  ? There  is  nothing 
that  we  are  such  spendthrifts  of  as  of  health.  We  spare 
everything  sooner  than  that,  though  whatever  we  sacri- 
fice to  it  is  worth  nothing  without  it.”  1 

One  subject  referred  to  in  that  letter,  and  which  some- 
what delayed  Molyneux’s  visit,  had  unlooked-for  conse- 
quences. With  the  discussions  about  the  promotion  of 
linen  manufacture  in  Ireland,  which  we  have  already 
noticed,  were  mixed  up  yet  more  angry  discussions  about 
the  Irish  woollen  trade.  Locke,  with  Molyneux's  ap- 
1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  265  ; Locke  to  William  Molyneux,  6 April,  1698. 


MOLYNEUX’s  POLITICAL  TROUBLE.  465 

proval,  had  agreed  to,  and  even  recomm  ended,  the 
suppression  of  Irish  wool,  on  condition  that  Irish  linen 
should  be  encouraged.  But  the  English  merchants  and 
their  friends  in  parliament,  while  they  were  determined 
that  all  possible  obstacles  should  be  thrown  in  the  way  of 
the  manufacture  of  woollen  goods  by  the  Irish,  were  by 
no  means  anxious  that  the  Irish  linen  trade  should  he 
encouraged.  In  the  spring  of  1698,  accordingly,  an  act 
of  parliament  was  passed  at  Westminster  imposing  fresh 
prohibitive  duties  upon  Irish  wool  brought  into  England, 
and  providing  no  substitute  for  it.  Many  Irishmen 
resented  this  proceeding,  and  Molyneux  most  of  all ; and 
his  resentment  led  him  to  form  opinions  that  were 
very  shocking  to  English  politicians.  “ Indeed,  they 
bear  very  hard  upon  us  in  Ireland,”  he  wrote  to  Locke. 
“ How  justly  they  can  bind  us  without  our  consent 
and  representatives,  I leave  the  author  of  the  ‘ Two 
Treatises  of  Government  ’ to  consider.  But  of  this  I shall 
trouble  you  further  another  time,  for  you  will  hear  more 
hereafter.” 1 Locke  seems  to  have  barely  understood  this 
allusion,  but  was  anxious  to  discuss  the  subject  with  his 
friend.  Molyneux  did  not  wait  for  the  discussion.  In 
April  he  sent  to  Locke  a copy  of  a pamphlet  that  he  had 
written,  entitled  ‘ The  Case  of  Ireland’s  being  bound  by 
Acts  of  Parliament  in  England  stated,’  a memorable  little 
treatise  in  which  he  started  the  momentous  question  of 
Ireland’s  subjection,  as  a mere  colony,  to  England,  which 
afterwards  found  much  fuller  expression  and  much  wider 
extension  in  the  writings  of  men  like  Swift,  Grattan,  and 
O’Connell.  “ This,”  he  said  in  a letter  to  Locke,  “ you’ll 
say  is  a nice  subject,  but  I think  I have  treated  it  with 

1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’ p.  263  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  15  March, 
1697-8. 


466 


last  years. 


[Chap.  XV. 


that  caution  and  submission  that  it  cannot  justly  give 
offence ; insomuch  that  I scruple  not  to  put  my  name  to 
it,  and,  by  advice  of  some  of  my  good  friends  here,  have 
presumed  to  dedicate  it  to  his  majesty.  I cannot  pretend 
this  to  be  an  accomplished  performance.  It  was  done  in 
haste,  and  intended  to  overtake  the  proceedings  at  West- 
minster, but  it  comes  too  late  for  that.  What  effect  it 
may  possibly  have  in  time  to  come,  God  and  the  wise 
council  of  England  only  know.  But  till  I either  see  how 
the  parliament  at  Westminster  is  pleased  to  take  it,  or  till 
I see  them  risen,  I do  not  think  it  advisable  for  me  to  go 
on  t’other  side  of  the  water.  Though  I am  not  apprehensive 
of  any  mischief  from  them,  yet  God  only  knows  what 
resentments  captious  men  may  take  on  such  occasions.” 1 

Molyneux  cannot,  therefore,  have  been  much  surprised 
when  he  heard  of  the  little  storm  which  his  hold  pam- 
phlet stirred  up.  On  the  21st  of  May  a member  of  the 
house  of  commons  produced  the  obnoxious  work,  read 
portions  of  it  to  his  indignant  fellow-members,  and  ob- 
tained the  appointment  of  a committee  to  report  on  its 
insolent  defiance  of  the  sovereign  power  of  the  English 
parliament  over  Ireland.  Molyneux’s  ‘ Case  ’ was  here 
grossly  exaggerated,  but  the  parliamentary  committee  took 
the  exaggerated  view.  Both  houses  joined  in  an  address 
to  the  king,  begging  that  he  would  discover  and  punish 
the  offender.2  The  king  paid  no  heed  to  the  request,  ho  w- 
ever, perhaps  in  consequence  of  Locke’s  showing  of  the 
folly  of  the  threatened  impeachment  of  his  friend ; and 
within  three  weeks  of  parliament’s  prorogation,  on  the 
5th  of  July,  Molyneux  was  quietly  walking  about  the 
streets  of  London  or  sitting  in  charmed  converse  with 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  270  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  19  April,  1698. 

4 Journals  of  the  House  of  Commons. 


467 


MOLYNEUX’ S VISIT  TO  LONDON  AND  DEATH. 

the  man  who  had  been  as  an  elder  brother  to  him  during 
nearly  six  years,  but  whom  now  he  had  the  happiness  for 
the  first  time  to  see. 

Of  all  that  passed  between  these  two  friends  during  the 
long-waited-for  and  much-longed-for  meeting,  which  lasted 
from  the  end  of  July  till  the  early  part  of  September,  we 
know  nothing  more  than  is  contained  in  the  brief  letter  that 
Molyneux  wrote  to  Locke  after  his  return  to  Dublin.  “ 1 
cannot  recollect  through  the  whole  course  of  my  life,”  he 
said,  “ such  signal  instances  of  real  friendship  as  when  I 
had  the  happiness  of  your  company  for  five  weeks  together 
in  London.  ’Tis  with  the  greatest  satisfaction  imaginable 
that  I recollect  what  then  passed  between  us,  and  I reckon 
it  the  happiest  scene  of  my  whole  life.  That  part  thereof 
especially  which  I passed  at  Oates  has  made  such  an 
agreeable  impression  on  my  mind  that  nothing  can  be 
more  pleasing.  To  all  in  that  excellent  family  I beseech 
you  give  my  most  humble  respects.”  1 

That  was  the  last  letter  that  Molyneux  sent  to  Locke. 
Just  three  weeks  after  writing  it,  on  the  11th  of  October, 
he  died,  at  the  age  of  forty-two. 

“ I parted  from  my  excellent  friend  when  he  went  from 
England,”  Locke  wrote  to  Eichard  Burridge,  the  trans- 
lator of  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’ 
who  had  sent  him  word  of  the  event,  “with  all  the 
hopes  and  promises  to  myself  of  seeing  him  again  and 
enjoying  him  longer  the  next  spring.  This  was  a satisfac- 
tion that  helped  me  to  bear  our  separation  ; and  the  short 
taste  I had  of  him  here  in  this  our  first  interview  I hoped 
would  he  made  up  in  a longer  conversation  which  he  pro- 
mised me  the  next  time.  But  it  has  served  only  to  give 
me  a greater  sense  of  my  loss  in  an  eternal  farewell  in  this 

Familiar  Letters,’  p.  272  ; William  Molyneux  to  Locke,  20  Sept.,  1698. 


468 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


world.  Your  earlier  acquaintance  may  have  given  you  a 
longer  knowledge  of  his  virtue  and  excellent  endowments. 
A fuller  sight  or  greater  esteem  of  them  you  could  not 
have  than  I.  His  worth  and  his  friendship  to  me  made 
him  an  inestimable  treasure  which  I must  regret  the  loss 
of,  the  little  remainder  of  my  life,  without  any  hopes  of 
repairing  it  any  way.”  1 

“ Death,”  he  wrote  on  the  same  day  to  Thomas  Moly- 
neux,  the  doctor,  “ has  with  a violent  hand  hastily  snatched 
from  you  a dear  brother.  I bear  too  great  a share  in  the 
loss,  and  am  too  sensibly  touched  with  it  myself,  to  be  in 
a condition  to  discourse  to  you  on  this  subject,  or  do  any- 
thing but  mingle  my  tears  with  yours.  I have  lost  in  your 
brother,  not  only  an  ingenious  and  learned  acquaintance 
that  all  the  world  esteemed,  but  an  intimate  and  sincere 
friend  whom  I truly  loved  and  by  wdiom  I was  truly  loved. 
And  what  a loss  that  is  those  only  can  be  sensible  who 
know  how  valuable  and  how  scarce  a true  friend  is  and 
how  far  to  be  preferred  to  all  other  sorts  of  treasure.”  2 

When  Locke  heard  of  Molyneux’s  death, he  was  at  Oates, 
having  been  already  driven  back  at  the  first  indications  of 
autumn  chill.  “ The  increasing  severity  of  the  weather, 
hostile  as  it  is  to  my  lungs,  will  soon  force  me  from  town,” 
he  had  written  to  Limborch  on  the  18th  of  October.  “A 
troublesome  cough  and  great  difficulty  of  breathing  urge 
my  departure.”  3 

If  his  correspondence  with  Limborch  during  these  years 
was  not  very  plentiful,  the  few  letters  that  passed  between 
them  were  generally  of  great  length,  and,  from  a theological 
point  of  view,  of  great  interest.  Theology  was  now,  as 

1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  275  ; Locke  to  Burridge,  27  Oct.,  1698. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  290  ; Locke  to  Thomas  Molyneux,  27  Oct.,  1698. 

8 Ibid.,  p.  431  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  18  Oct.,  1698. 


JfliJ  CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  LIMBORCH.  469 

heretofore,  the  main  ground  of  sympathy  between  them 
and  the  chief  subject  of  their  correspondence,  though 
joined,  as  of  old,  with  profuse  and  transparently  honest 
utterances  of  mutual  affection  and  esteem.  “ Though 
nothing  is  more  welcome  to  me  than  a letter  from  such  a 
dear  friend  as  you,”  Limborch  wrote  on  one  occasion,  “ I 
am  far  from  wishing  that  one  so  absorbed  as  you  are  in 
many  and  very  important  duties  should  feel  constrained 
to  reply  to  me,  letter  for  letter.  Friendship  like  ours 
does  not  require  arithmetical  proportion  in  writing  and 
answering,  but  can  be  satisfied  by  the  knowledge  that  the 
loved  one’s  mind  is  full  of  kindly  thought,  and  I feel 
myself  well  treated  if  now  and  then,  when  you  have  a little 
relaxation  from  your  weighty  cares,  you  can  spare  a few 
minutes  to  send  me  ever  so  short  a letter.”  1 Locke  did 
not  often  send  short  letters.  Whenever  he  could  write 
at  all,  he  wrote  short  treatises  rather  than  letters  ; and 
Limborch’s  replies  were  yet  longer.  But  we  have  had  so 
much  other  illustration  of  Locke’s  theological  opinions, 
that  this  correspondence  need  not  detain  us. 

Nor  need  much  here  be  said  about  another  correspond- 
ence in  which  Locke  was  now  and  hereafter  engaged. 
The  establishment  of  peace  between  England  and  France 
in  1697  enabled  him  to  resume  communications  with  a 
very  old  friend,  from  intercourse  with  whom  the  long  war 
had  almost,  if  not  quite,  debarred  him.  We  have  a few 
letters  written  by  him  from  Holland  to  Nicolas  Thoynard, 
but  since  his  return  to  England  in  1689  he  seems  to  have 
been  unable  to  write  anything  for  nearly  nine  years.  He 
probably  sent  to  Thoynard  at  least  one  letter  of  the 
new  series  before  March,  1698,  but  the  first  that  is  extant 
bears  that  date.  In  it  he  congratulated  his  friend  on  the 
1 ‘Familiar  Letters,’ p.  443  ; Limborch  to  Locke,  [22  Sept. — ] 2 Oct.,  1699. 


170 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XT. 


progress  of  his  literary  undertakings  and  thanked  him  for 
a parcel  of  hooks  that  he  had  received  from  him.  “ I also, 
I know  not  by  what  fate,”  he  added,  “ have  become  the 
author  of  certain  books.  I should  send  you  copies  of 
them  if  they  were  in  a language  that  you  could  understand; 
but  I am  a barbarian  to  you.  While  I was  in  Holland,  I 
employed  some  leisure  hours  in  writing  letters  to  a friend 
to  help  him  in  the  training  of  his  little  boy.  The  treatise 
that  has  grown  out  of  these  ” — ‘ Some  Thoughts  concern- 
ing Education  ’ — “ has  been  translated  into  French  and 
Dutch.  I have  given  orders  for  a copy  of  the  French 
version  to  he  sent  to  you,  and  I hope  it  has  reached  you 
by  this  time.  I shall  he  glad  to  have  your  opinion  upon 
it.  Eight  years  ago  I submitted  to  the  judgment  of  the 
public  my  ‘Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’” 
— about  the  early  sketch  of  which  Locke  had  consulted 
Thoynard  in  Paris  more  than  twenty  years  before.  t£  This 
work,  I believe,  will  soon  be  reproduced  in  a language  not 
unknown  to  you,  and,  when  that  is  done,  I beg,  if  I am 
alive  at  the  time,  that  you  will  let  me  know  the  result  of 
your  calm  and  clear  judgment  concerning  it,  without  favour 
and  without  prejudice.”  1 More  of  the  same  sort  Locke 
wrote  to  his  old  friend  in  this  and  other  letters.2  These 
letters,  however,  though  containing  much  interesting 
matter  about  literary,  scientific,  and  theological  affairs, 
do  not  throw  any  light  on  Locke’s  biography ; and,  though 
written  in  kind  and  familiar  terms,  they  show  that  the 
old  intensity  of  affection  that  was  freely  expressed  in  the 
letters  of  former  years  had  to  a great  extent  worn  off 
with  time  and  the  long  and  unavoidable  cessation  of 
correspondence.  Locke,  since  he  last  saw  Thoynard, 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  28753;  Locke  to  Thoynard,  25  March,  1698. 

2 In  Additional  MSS.,  nos.  28728,  28753,  28836. 


™*»;]  COBEE SPONDENCE  WITH  THOYNAED.  471 

had  fallen  in  with  other  friends  who  had  grown  dearer  to 
him  than  Thoynard ; and  one  of  them,  alas,  was  beyond 
the  reach  of  letters. 

Molynenx  could  not  be  forgotten.  More  than  three 
months  after  his  death,  Locke  wrote  to  his  brother  and 
excused  himself  for  not  having  sooner  answered  a letter 
he  had  received.  “ The  truth  is,  my  thoughts  never  look 
towards  Dublin  now  without  casting  such  a cloud  upon 
my  mind,  and  laying  such  a load  of  fresh  sorrow  on  me 
for  the  loss  of  my  dear  friend,  that  I cannot  without  dis- 
pleasure turn  them  that  way,  and,  when  I do  it,  I find 
myself  very  unfit  for  conversation  and  the  entertainment 
of  a friend.  ’Tis  therefore  not  without  pain  that  I bring 
myself  to  write  you  a scurvy  letter.  What  there  wants 
in  it  of  expression,  you  must  make  up  out  of  the  esteem  I 
have  for  the  memory  of  our  common  friend,  and  I desire 
you  not  to  thiuk  my  respects  to  you  the  less,  because  the 
loss  of  your  brother  makes  me  not  able  to  speak  them  as  I 
would.  I have  given  orders  to  Mr.  Churchill  to  send  you 
the  last  edition  of  my  treatise  of  £ Education,’  which  came 
forth  since  Mr.  Molyneux’s  death.  I send  this  with  the 
more  confidence  to  you,  because  your  brother  told  me 
more  than  once  that  he  followed  the  method  I therein 
offer  to  the  world  in  the  breeding  of  his  son.  I wish  you 
may  find  it  fit  to  be  continued  to  him  and  useful  to  you 
in  his  education  ; for  I cannot  but  be  mightily  concerned 
for  the  son  of  such  a father,  and  wish  that  he  may  grow 
up  into  that  esteem  and  character  which  his  father  left 
behind  him  amongst  all  good  men  who  knew  him.” 1 

There  is  not  much  to  be  said  about  Locke’s  life  and 
occupations  during  the  two  years  following  Molyneux’s 

; ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  294 ; Locke  to  Thomas  Molyneux,  25  Jan., 

1698-9. 


472 


LAST  YE AES. 


LChap.  XV. 


death.  Going  down  to  Oates  in  October,  1698,  he  ap- 
pears to  have  carefully  nursed  himself  during  the  long 
winter — “ the  wettest,  though  not  the  coldest,  that  I 
remember  for  fifty  years  last  past,”  said  Evelyn1 — and 
to  have  had  better  health  than  he  had  looked  for.  “ The 
warm  weather  that  begins  now  with  us  makes  me  hope  I 
shall  speedily  get  to  town,”  he  said  in  a letter  to  Samuel 
Bolde,2  the  unseen  champion  who  had  relieved  him  from 
some  work  that  he  might  have  otherwise  been  led  against 
his  will  to  undertake,  by  ably  continuing  the  controversy 
with  Edwards  about  ‘ The  Beasonableness  of  Christi- 
anity,’ and  who  had  lately  published  his  very  skilful  de- 
fence of  the  ‘Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding." 

Some  portions  of  that  letter  deserve  to  be  quoted 
here.  “To  be  learned  in  the  lump,  by  other  men’s 
thoughts,”  said  Locke,  “ and  to  be  in  the  right  by  saying 
after  others,  is  the  much  easier  and  quieter  way ; but 
how  a rational  man,  that  should  inquire  and  know  for  1 
himself,  can  content  himself  with  a faith  or  a religion 
taken  upon  trust,  or  with  such  servile  submission  of  his 
understanding  as  to  admit  all  and  nothing  else  but  what 
fashion  makes  passable  among  men,  is  to  me  astonishing. 

I do  not  wonder  you  should  have,  in  many  points,  differ- 
ent apprehensions  from  what  you  meet  with  in  authors. 
With  a free  mind,  that  unbiassedly  pursues  truth,  it 
cannot  be  otherwise.  First,  all  authors  did  not  write 
unbiassedly  for  truth’s  sake.  Secondly,  there  are  scarce 
any  two  men  that  have  perfectly  the  same  views  of  the 
same  thing,  till  they  come  with  attention  and  perhaps 
mutual  assistance  to  examine  it,  a consideration  that 
makes  conversation  with  the  living  much  more  desirable 

1 Evelyn,  ‘ Diary,’  25  June,  1699. 

2 ‘ The  Museum  ’ (1746),  vol.  ii.,  p.  205  ; Locke  to  Bolde,  6 May,  1699. 


^Et.^66.]  A LETTER  TO  SAMUEL  BOLDE.  473 

and  useful  than  consulting  the  dead,  would  the  living  but 
he  inquisitive  after  truth,  apply  their  thoughts  with  atten- 
tion to  the  gaining  of  it,  and  be  indifferent  where  it  is 
found,  so  they  could  but  find  it.  The  first  requisite  to 
the  profiting  by  books  is  not  to  judge  of  opinions  by  the 
authority  of  the  writers.  None  have  the  right  of  dic- 
tating but  God  himself,  and  that  because  he  is  Truth 
itself.  All  others  have  the  right  to  be  followed  as  the 
evidence  of  what  they  say  convinces ; and  of  that  my 
own  understanding  alone  must  be  judge  for  me,  and 
nothing  else.  If  we  made  our  own  eyes  our  guides,  and 
admitted  or  rejected  opinions  only  by  the  evidence  of 
reason,  we  should  neither  embrace  nor  refuse  any  tenet 
because  we  find  it  published  by  another,  of  what  name  or 
character  soever  he  was.”  “ What  you  say  about  critics 
and  critical  interpretations,  particularly  of  the  Scriptures, 
is  not  only  in  my  opinion  true,  but  of  great  use  to  be 
observed  in  reading  learned  commentators,  who  not 
seldom  make  it  their  business  to  show  in  what  sense  a 
word  has  been  used  by  other  authors ; whereas  the 
proper  business  of  a commentator  is  to  show  in  what 
sense  it  was  used  by  the  author  in  that  place,  which  in 
the  Scripture  we  have  reason  to  conclude  was  most 
commonly  in  the  ordinary  vulgar  sense  of  the  word  or 
phrase  known  in  that  time,  because  the  books  were 
written  and  adapted  to  the  people.  If  critics  had  ob- 
served this,  we  should  have  in  their  writings  less  ostenta- 
tion and  more  truth,  and  a great  deal  of  darkness  now 
spread  on  the  Scriptures  had  been  avoided.  I have  a 
late  proof  of  this  myself,  who  have  lately  found  in  some 
passages  of  Scripture  a sense  quite  different  from  what  I 
understood  them  in  before,  or  from  what  I found  in  com- 
mentators. But  I read  the  word  of  God  without  prepos- 


474 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


session  or  bias,  and  come  to  it  with  a resolution  to  take 
my  sense  from  it,  and  not  with  a design  to  bring  it  to  the 
sense  of  my  system.  How  much  that  has  made  men 
wind  and  twist  and  pull  the  text  in  all  the  several  sects  of 
Christians,  I need  not  tell  you.  I design  to  take  my 
religion  from  the  Scripture,  and  then  whether  it  suits  or 
suits  not  any  other  denomination  I am  not  much  con- 
cerned ; for  I think  at  the  last  day  it  will  not  be  inquired 
whether  I was  of  the  church  of  England  or  Geneva,  but 
whether  I sought  or  embraced  truth  in  the  love  of  it.” 

Those  sentences  surely  furnish  a delightful  clue  to  the 
temper  in  which  Locke  had  set  himself  long  ago,  but  in 
these  last  years  of  his  life  set  himself  more  zealously  than 
ever,  to  build  up  a religion  for  himself. 

The  same  charming  letter  also  tells  us  something  of  his 
mode  of  work.  “ You  say  you  lose  many  things  because 
they  slip  from  you.  I have  had  experience  of  that  myself. 
But  for  that  my  Lord  Bacon  has  provided  a sure  remedy ; 
for,  as  I remember,  he  advises  somewhere  never  to  go 
without  pen  and  ink  or  something  to  write  with,  and  to 
be  sure  not  to  neglect  to  write  down  all  thoughts  of 
moment  that  come  into  the  mind.  I must  own  I have 
omitted  it  often,  and  have  often  repented  it.  The  thoughts 
that  come  unsought,  and  as  it  were  dropped  into  the 
mind,  are  commonly  the  most  valuable  of  any  we  have, 
and  therefore  should  be  secured,  because  they  seldom 
return  again.  You  say  also  that  you  lose  many  things, 
because  your  thoughts  are  not  steady  and  strong  enough 
to  pursue  them  to  a just  issue.  Give  me  leave  to  think 
that  herein  you  mistake  yourself  and  your  own  abilities. 
Write  down  your  thoughts  upon  any  subject  as  far  as  you 
have  at  any  time  pursued  them,  and  then  go  on  again 
some  other  time  when  you  find  your  mind  disposed  to  it, 


LETTERS  TO  ESTHER  MASHAM. 


475 


1699.  "I 
iEt.  66.  J 

. and  so  till  yon  have  carried  them  as  far  as  you  can,  and 
you  will  be  convinced  that,  if  you  have  lost  any,  it  is  not 
for  want  of  strength  of  mind  to  bring  them  to  an  issue, 
hut  for  want  of  memory  to  retain  a long  train  of  reason- 
ings, which  the  mind,  having  once  beat  out,  is  loth  to  be 
; at  the  pains  to  go  over  again ; and  so,  your  connection 
and  train  having  slipped  the  memory,  the  pursuit  stops 
and  the  reasoning  is  neglected  before  it  comes  to  the  last 
conclusion.  If  you  have  not  tried  it,  you  cannot  imagine 
the  difference  there  is  in  studying  with  and  without  a 
pen  in  your  hand.  Your  ideas,  if  the  connections  of  them 
J that  you  have  traced  be  set  down,  so  that  without  the 
pains  of  re-collecting  them  in  your  memory  you  can  take 
an  easy  view  of  them  again,  will  lead  you  farther  than 
you  can  expect.  Try ; and  tell  me  if  it  is  not  so.” 

Locke  could  write  playful  letters  as  well  as  serious 
ones  ; but  even  in  his  letters  to  Esther  Masham  there  was 
a touch  of  seriousness  now.  Here  are  two,  both  written 
from  London  in  one  week  in  July,  1699  : — 

“ Dear  Dib, — Did  not  your  ears  tingle  much  on  Saturday  last  ? My 
daughter  1 and  I talked  much  of  you  that  day  at  Battersea  ; and,  if  you  are 
not  an  obdurate  creature,  you  could  not  hut  be  sensible  of  it  at  twice  this 
distance.  Particularly  she  told  me  she  had  writ  and  that  you  answered 
not,  that  she  writ  of  business  and  you  took  no  notice  of  it,  of  your  business 
and  yet  you  were  silent.  To  all  this  your  Joannes,  standing  up  for  you, 
answered  the  best  he  could,  and  ’twas  no  hard  matter  for  him  to  carry  the 
point,  for  my  good  daughter  was  not  inclined  to  be  angry,  but  was  only 
concerned  you  should  know  that  she  had  found  out  a merchant,  an  honest 
man,  their  neighbour  at  Battersea,  who  was  of  Rouen,  traded  thither  and 
had  acquaintance  there,  and  would  be  ready  to  do  you  any  service.  I wish 
you  had  business  there  ; be  might  be  a fit  man  for  some  purposes.  How- 
ever, my  daughter  is  mindful  of  her  friends. 

“ I thank  you  for  the  care  you  take  of  my  brewhouse 2 and  drink.  ’Tis 

1 “Cos.  St.  John,  now  Cos.  Gower.  She  used  to  call  Mr.  Locke  father.” 
— E.  M.’s  note. 

2 “ Mr.  Locke  drank  nothing  but  water.  What  he  calls  his  brewhouse 


1 


476 


LAST  YEABS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


like  a good  Dib,  and  when  I go  into  our  nown 1 country  of  Wales  I promise 
you  a bottle  of  the  best  metkeglin  for  it. 

“ I thought  your  paper  books  would  have  come  best  home  with  my  printed 
ones.  But  since  you  long  to  begin  the  world,  and  ’tis  a good  girl  for  it,  you 
shall  have  them  speedily  by  the  butcher  or  Lantam.  Give  me  credit  but  till 
next  week,  and  that  account  shall  be  balanced  between  us,  though  there  be 
many  others  wherein  I shall  be  all  over  your  debtor.  But  what  matters 
that  ? You  know  I am  all  over  your  “ Joannes.”  2 

“ Bear  Dib, — I have  received  the  honour  of  yours  of  the  24th,  and  have 
to  say  to  the  kindness  of  it  a great  deal,  to  the  business  of  it  very  little,  to 
the  compliment  nothing.  The  first  of  these  being  too  much  for  a letter,  I 
shall  adjourn  it  till  I see  you.  And  therefore  I come  to  the  second.  That 
you  should  put  out  your  money  rather  than  let  it  lie  dead,  is  easily  resolved. 
Mr.  Jefferies  and  Mrs.  Burdet  together  I imagine  to  be  good  security,  espe- 
cially if  he  borrows  this  50 1.  only  to  make  up  500/.  which  he  is  letting  out 
upon  a mortgage,  and  Mrs.  Burdet  has  money  and  houses. 

“ I wish  your  lady  mother  had  taken  a soop  of  the  brandy  which  you 
write  me  was  just  come.  She  would  then  certainly  have  been  better 
natured  than  to  have  complained  of  my  using  her,  and  made  that  an  excuse 
for  her  not  writing  when,  if  she  consider  it,  she  will  find  I have  writ  four 
letters  to  her  since  I received  ever  a one. 

“ Pray  tell  Frank  that  I am  glad  to  hear  you  and  everyone  speak  well  of 
him.  Assure  him  that  I love  him  very  much,  and  that  I expect  to  hear 
from  him  some  news  of  what  he  saw  or  observed  at  the  assizes.  My 
humble  service  to  Sir  Francis,  Mr.  Winwood,  and  Mr.  Coste. 

“ I am,  your  most  humble  and  faithful  servant,  “ Joannes.”3 

was  a stone  in  form  of  a great  mortar,  of  so  spongy  a stone  that  water,  being 
putin,  used  to  run  through  in  a very  short  time,  and  strained  the  water  from 
any  dirt  that  might  be  in  it  ” (E.  M’s  note).  Miss  Palmer  tells  me  that  this 
home-made  filter  of  Locke’s  was  till  lately  in  the  possession  of  her  family, 
and  was  found  so  well  to  answer  its  purpose  that  it  was  lent  to  a farmer  in 
the  neighbourhood,  whose  health  required  that  he  should  drink  especially 
pure  water.  Unfortunately  the  filter  was  never  returned,  and  this  interest- 
ing heirloom  has  been  lost. 

1 Sic. 

2 Letters  from  Relations  and  Friends,  vol.  i.,  pp.  80,  81 ; Locke  to 
Esther  Masham,  21  July,  1699. 

3 Ibid. , vol.  i.,  pp.  81,  82  ; Locke  to  Esther  Masham,  27  July,  1699. 


IcM.  I 
St.  67  J 


A PLAN  FOR  REFORMING  THE  CALENDAR. 


477 


In  noteworthy  contrast  to  the  last  few  letters  that  have 
been  quoted,  though  quite  as  valuable  for  its  indication  of 
Locke’s  very  various  but  always  consistent  temperament, 
is  one  that  he  addressed  a few  months  later,  after  he  had 
spent  another  half-year  in  working  with  unabated  zeal 
at  the  business  of  the  council  of  trade,  and  was  now  at 
Oates  again,  to  Dr.  Sloane,  the  secretary  of  the  Royal 
Society. 

The  chief  subject  of  this  letter  was  the  reformation  of 
the  calendar.  It  must  be  remembered  that  in  Locke’s 
time  Englishmen  persisted  in  making  the  new  year  begin 
at  Lady-day  instead  of  on  the  1st  of  January,  and  in  adopt- 
ing the  old-fashioned  and  erroneous  reckoning  of  a year  as 
consisting  of  exactly  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days 
and  a quarter,  thus  causing  a discrepancy  of  ten  days  in 
the  seventeenth  century  and  of  eleven  days  in  the  eight- 
eenth. “ Since  you  command  me,”  Locke  wrote  shortly 
before  the  beginning  of  a new  century,  “ I here  send  you 
what  I proposed  above  a twelvemonth  since  for  the 
reforming  of  our  year,  before  the  addition  of  another  day 
increase  the  error,  and  make  us,  if  we  go  on  in  our  old 
way,  differ  the  next  year  eleven  days  from  those  who 
have  a more  rectified  calendar.  The  remedy  which  I 
offer  is  that  the  intercalar  day  should  be  omitted  the  next 
year,  and  so  the  ten  next  leap-years  following,  by  which 
easy  way  we  should  in  forty-four  years  insensibly  return 
to  the  new  style.  This  I call  an  easy  way,  because  it 
would  not  be  without  prejudice  or  disturbance  to  any 
one’s  civil  rights,  which,  by  lopping  off  ten  or  eleven  days 
at  once  in  any  one  year,  might  perhaps  receive  incon- 
venience, the  only  objection  that  ever  I heard  made 
against  rectifying  our  account.  I need  not  say  anything 
bo  you  how  inexcusable  it  is,  in  so  learned  an  age  as  this, 


478 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV 


and  in  a country  wherein  astronomy  is  carried  to  a higher 
pitch  than  ever  it  was  in  the  world,  an  error  of  this  kind 
should  be  suffered  to  go  on,  an  error  which  everybody 
sees  and  owns  to  have  growing  inconveniences  in  it.  I 
shall  rather  choose  to  wish  that,  when  this  reformation 
is  made,  the  beginning  of  the  year  with  us  might  be  re- 
duced from  the  25th  of  March  to  the  1st  of  January,  that 
we  might  herein  agree  with  our  neighbours  and  the  rest 
of  the  Christian  world.”1  Many  years  passed  before  the 
change  was  effected,  and  then  not  by  Locke’s  “easy 
way!” 

After  a quiet  winter  at  Oates,  Locke  returned  to  London 
in  the  middle  of  May,  1700,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  resigned 
his  commissionership  of  trade  in  June.  From  that  time 
he  resided  almost  constantly  in  the  Essex  country  house. 

“I  have  read  in  the  newspapers,”  Limborch  wrote  to 
him  a fortnight  after  his  retirement,  “ a report  which  your 
letter  to  Mr.  Le  Clerc  confirms,  that  on  account  of  your 
increasing  age  and  weakness,  you  have  obtained  release 
from  the  very  honourable  office  that  was  assigned  to  you 
some  years  ago.  I certainly  cannot  blame  you  for  so 
doing.  Indeed,  I greatly  commend  your  resolution  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  your  life,  freed  from  the  burden 
of  politics,  in  rest,  in  study  and  in  holy  meditations. 
From  my  heart  I wish  you  joy  in  your  repose,  and  I pray 
God  that  he  will  increasingly  adorn  your  advancing  age 
with  those  best  gifts  which  bring  true  happiness,  and 
that  he  will  make  amends  for  every  decay  of  bodily 
strength  by  the  bestowal  of  a livelier  sharpness  of  mind 
and  strength  of  spirit.”2 


1 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  66  ; Locke  to  Sloane,  2 Dec.,  1699. 

2 ‘Familiar  Letters,’  p.  461 ; Limborch  to  Locke,  [9—]  20  July,  1700. 


RETIREMENT  AT  OATES. 


479 


iron.  -[ 
iEt.  08.  J 

Locke’s  leisure  at  Oates  enabled  him  to  write  more 
freely  to  bis  friends,  and  bis  letters  reflect  tbe  continued 
and  even  increasing  interest  that  be  took  in  all  those 
friends’  concerns,  as  well  as  tbe  brave  temper  in  wbicb, 
for  bimself,  be  resolved  to  live  as  happily  as  be  could 
while  bis  feeble  body  held  out,  and  to  die  cheerfully  when 
it  was  time  for  him  to  die. 

“ I cannot  but  be  mightily  concerned  for  tbe  ill  state 
of  your  health,”  be  wrote  to  Clarke,  in  August,  1700. 
“ My  lady  desired  me,  bearing  that  you  were  in  town  by 
this  time,  to  invite  you  and  my  wife  down  hither  to  try 
. what  tbe  air  will  do.  She  says  we  will  all  take  a great 
deal  of  care  of.  you,  and  try,  every  one,  to  rectify  your 

1 spleen.  She  very  earnestly  importunes  you  to  make  tbe 
trial,  if  it  be  but  for  tbe  change  sake,  wbicb  is  good  in 
such  cases,  and  to  get  out  of  tbe  town  air  and  smoke, 

I wbicb  she  thinks  good  in  no  distemper.  I join  heartily 
with  her  in  it,  and  think  you  cannot  do  a better  thing.” 
That  letter  was  accompanied  by  another,  written  on  tbe 
afternoon  of  tbe  same  day  from  Matching  Tye.  “ Carry- 
ing tbe  enclosed  myself  to  Mr.  Jocelyn,  by  whom  it 
goes  to  tbe  post,”  be  now  added,  “ I found  there  yours  of 
yesterday,  with  tbe  enclosed  from  my  wife.  I am  glad  to 
find  by  it  that  you  came  safe  to  town,  and  wish  heartily 
you  bad  left  your  distemper  behind.  I know  nothing  so 
likely  to  produce  quiet  sleep  as  riding  about  gently  in  tbe 
air  for  many  hours  every  day.  If  your  mind  can  be 
brought  to  contribute  a little  its  part  to  tbe  laying 
aside  troublesome  ideas,  I could  hope  this  may  do  much. 
This  may  be  a further  inducement  for  your  coming  hither, 
for  I am  on  horseback  every  day.  Pray  return  my  thanks 
to  my  wife  for  her  letter.”  1 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  23  August,  1700  (two 
letters). 


480 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Cuap.  XV. 


Neither  Clarke  nor  his  daughter  Betty  accepted  the 
invitation  to  Oates,  and  ten  days  afterwards  Locke  had 
to  report  that  he  was  himself  too  ill  to  go  to  London,  as 
his  friend  had  desired  him  to  do,  a painful  swelling,  which 
issued  in  a boil,  having  appeared  on  his  back.  “ I can 
at  present  bear  neither  horse  nor  coach,  and  if  you  saw 
me,  and  how  I labour  for  breath  in  the  morning  when  I 
rise,  you  would  not  think  the  town  air  very  fit  for  me.”1 
In  that  letter  Locke  advised  Clarke  as  to  the  medicine 
he  should  take,  and  in  the  next,  written  a fortnight  later, 
he  kindly  scolded  him  for  not  following  his  advice. 
“ Half  methods  never  produce  whole  or  any  cures  ; and 
health  is  worth  all  that  we  can  do.”  “ My  swelling  is 
not  gone,”  he  added.  “It  goes  hut  slowly.  It  has  kept 
me  quiet,  and  I have  not  been  on  horseback  ever  since  I 
first  mentioned  it  to  you.  I count  it  a great  loss  to  me 
now  winter  is  at  hand,  and  thereby  my  time  of  riding 
near  an  end.  For,  though  I rode  hut  gently  a mile  or 
two  when  it  was  fair  after  dinners,  yet  that  airing  and 
exercise,  which  is  all  that  I have,  I thought  did  me 
good.”2  After  another  fortnight  he  had  to  tell  his  friend 
that,  though  the  tumour  had  quitted  his  hack,  another  and 
worse  one  had  broken  out  in  his  leg.  “I  write  in  pain. 
I spend  most  of  my  time  in  bed,  and  have  ate  nothing  for 
some  days  but  water-gruel.  I hope  in  my  next  I shall 
be  able  to  give  a better  account  of  my  spindle-shanks.”3 
After  yet  another  fortnight  a slightly  better  account  was 
given.  “ My  sore  leg  permits  me  to  sit  up  very  little. 
I hoped  to  have  had  it  well  before  this  time  ; hut  it  is 
not  so  forward  this  way  as  I thought.”  In  that  letter 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  2 Sept.,  1700. 

2 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  16  Sept.,  1700. 

3 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  3 Oct.,  1700. 


1700.  "I 
JEt.  6S.  J 


ILLNESS  AT  OATES. 


481 


Locke  again  complained  that  Clarke  did  not  follow  his 
advice,  and  especially  that  he  did  not  ride ; riding,  he 
said,  being  a better-  cure  than  steel  or  any  other  medicine, 

[and  one  that  he  sorely  regretted  his  own  inability  to  adopt. 
“ My  leg  mends,  though  but  slowly,”  he  wrote  next  week, 
“ and  it  will  not  let  me  return  to  my  ordinary  course  of 
life ; but  whenever  I sit  up  an  hour  or  two  too  long,  it 
grows  troublesome  and  painful,  and  is  sensibly  the  worse 
for  it.”1 2 

Thus  September  and  October  passed.  Peter  King 
came  down  to  visit  his  cousin  during  his  illness;3  and 
Locke  amused  himself  by  looking  up  material  for  a large 
‘ Collection  of  Voyages  and  Travels,’  which,  apparently 
at  his  instigation,  Churchill  the  publisher  was  preparing 
to  issue.4  In  October,  and  again  in  November,  he  wrote 
to  Dr.  Covell  at  Cambridge,  urging  him  to  contribute  to 
this  series  an  account  of  his  own  experiences  among  the 
Brahmins,  as  he  thought  it  very  important  that  the  old 
religions  of  the  east  should  he  better  understood  by 
Europeans.  In  the  second  of  these  letters  he  begged 
Coveil  to  visit  him  at  Oates.  “ I have  for  some  time 
been  confined  within  doors  by  a lame  leg,”  he  said, 

; “ and  now  am  under  the  blockade  of  my  old  enemy, 
winter.”5 

Locke  had  good  reason  to  fear  that  the  winter  would 

1  Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  18  Oct.,  1700. 

2  Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  25  Oct.,  1700. 

3  Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  21  Oct.,  1700. 

4  It  was  not  issued  till  1704,  in  six  folio  volumes  ; and  the  long  introduc- 
tion was  reported  to  have  been  written  by  Locke.  This  is  not  at  all  likely,  as 
the  introduction  comprised  a sketch  of  the  whole  history  of  voyaging  and 
navigation,  long  enough  to  fill  a volume  of  ordinary  size. 

5  Additional  MSS.,  no.  22910  ; Locke  to  Coveil,  25  Oct.  and  3 Nov., 
1700. 

Vol.  II.— 31 


482 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV 


be  too  much  for  him.  “ My  leg,”  he  wrote  to  Clarke 
early  in  November,  “is  now,  I thank  God,  so  well  that 
it  confines  me  no  longer  to  the  lazy  lying  in  bed,  which 
I was  quite  weary  of ; so  that  that  malady  I look  on  now 
as  quite  over.  Whether  I am  much  to  rejoice  in  it  I do 
not  well  know,  for,  though  the  settling  of  a humour  in 
my  legs  is  not  a very  desirable  thing  in  one  of  my  age,  and 
has  usually  trouble  and  danger  enough  in  it,  yet,  if  I do 
not  mistake,  my  lungs  were  much  easier  whilst  the  sores 
were  running  than  they  were  before.  This  I said,  and 
thought  I felt,  then ; but  this  I am  sure,  that  I breathe 
much  worse  now  than  when  my  leg  was  ill.  Whether  it 
be  the  coming  on  of  winter  alone  that  causes  it,  and  the 
cold  and  foggy  weather,  I cannot  be  positive.  Every 
winter  is  of  course  to  bring  a greater  load  upon  me 
till  at  last  it  put  an  end  to  my  breathing  at  all.”1  But 
he  was  not  to  have  merely  an  alternation  of  maladies. 
“ The  very  day  I writ  to  you  in  confidence  that  my 
leg  was  as  good  as  well,”  he  wrote  to  Clarke  six  days 
afterwards,  “ my  other  before  night  began  to  be  out  of 
order ; and  between  the  one  and  the  other  of  them  I 
am  not  yet  free  from  pain  and  trouble  ; but  I hope  I 
shall  in  a little  time  get  over  it.  In  the  meantime,  I 
have  one  inconvenience  now  the  cold  weather  comes  in, 
which,  if  my  legs  should  remain  in  the  state  they  are, 
would  make  me  very  uneasy.  You  know  I have  but  one 
way  to  keep  my  feet  warm,  that  are,  without  a fire,  icy 
cold.  But  now,  if  I approach  the  fire,  the  only  remedy 
for  my  cold  feet,  the  sores  that  yet  remain  on  my  legs,  as 
soon  as  they  feel  any  warmth  from  the  fire,  so  burn  and 
shoot  that  the  pain  is  intolerable.2  This  obliges  me  to 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  5 Nov.,  1700. 

2 “ Mr.  Locke’s  legs  do  not  pain  him  now  that  he  has  got  a screen  for 


1700.  "I 
.®t.  68. J 


ILLNESS  AT  OATES. 


483 


spend  a great  part  of  my  time  in  bed,  a way  of  living  I do 
not  much  like.  Though,  when  I consider  it  well,  I think 
I ought  to  be  content  that  I am  at  all  amongst  the 
living.  ’Tis  not  the  spleen  that  suggests  this  thought, 
but  the  news  I hear  this  post  that  my  poor  old  friend 
Mr.  Hodges  is  dead.  He,  Hr.  Thomas  and  I were  inti- 
mate in  our  younger  days  in  the  university.  These  two 
are  gone ; and  who  could  have  thought  that  I,  much 
the  weakest  and  most  unlikely  of  the  three,  should  have 
outlived  them  ? 5,1 

“I  came  into  the  country,”  he  said  at  the  close  of  the 
year,  in  a letter  to  Sloane,  thanking  him  for  copies  of  the 
Philosophical  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society,  “ with 
a design  of  employing  some  part  of  my  leisure  in  looking 
over  some  papers  I have,  with  an  intention  to  offer  you 
anything  I should  find  in  them  that  I might  presume  you 
would  think  worthy  to  appear  amongst  those  observations 
which  you  continue  to  oblige  the  world  with.  But  sore 
legs,  that  seized  on  me  soon  after  my  coming  hither,  and 
that  have  ever  since  made  me  spend  the  greatest  part  of 
my  time  in  bed,  have  kept  me  from  that  and  several 
other  things  I proposed  to  myself.  I thank  God  my  legs 
are  now  pretty  well  again,  but  my  old  evil  of  my  breast, 
as  is  to  be  expected  from  every  year’s  increase  of  age, 
sits  heavier  upon  me  than  it  was  wont  to  do  formerly  in 

them,  for  which  I am  extremely  glad,”  Frank  Masham  wrote  to  his  sister 
Esther,  then  in  London,  just  a year  after,  on  the  7th  of  November,  1701. — 
Letters  from  Friends  and  Pieiations,  in  Miss  Palmer’s  possession. 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  11  Nov.,  1700.  “Mr. 
Hodges,  being  here,  hath  received  an  invitation  from  Mr.  Locke  to  desire 
a visit  from  him,  in  terms  that  bespeak  him  a dying  man,”  Humphrey 
Prideaux  had  written,  four  years  before,  to  Under-Secretary  Ellis  (‘  Letters 
of  Prideaux  to  Ellis,’  p.  182).  The  letter  is  dated  20  July,  1696.  Locke 
was  well  then,  but  had  been  very  ill  in  the  previous  winter. 


484 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XT. 


country  air.  I have  read  physic  enough  to  think  it  not 
at  all  strange  that  it  should  do  so,  and  therefore  am  not 
startled  at  it.  The  tenement  must  at  some  time  or  other 
fall  to  dust,  and  mine  has  held  out  heyond  expectation. 
I wish  you  a merry  Christmas  and  a happy  new  year.”1 

Nicolas  Thoynard  had,  on  the  French  new  year’s  day, 
written  a letter  that  reached  Locke  on  the  1st  of  January, 
1700-1,  and  to  this  he  made  a graceful  reply,  which,  as  it 
is  the  last  letter  to  his  old  friend  that  need  be  here 
referred  to,  though  not  the  last  written  by  him,  deserves 
to  he  translated  from  its  mingled  French  and  Latin. 
“I  could  not,”  he  said,  “have  had  a more  agreeable  or 
a happier  commencement  of  the  century  than  that  which 
you  caused  me  by  your  kind  letter,  and  by  its  renewed 
assurances  of  your  friendship,  and  by  the  hope  you  give 
me  in  it  that  I may  see  you  once  again.  Truly,  sir, 
nothing  could  he  more  welcome  to  me,  and  if  I had  to 
live  through  another  century,  my  first  wish  would  be  to 
spend  it  happily  with  you,  free  from  every  other  care  but 
that  of  honest  and  zealous  seeking  after  truth.  The 
injustice  of  men  is  always  painful  to  me  ; but  I am  grieved 
especially  at  the  obstacles  that  embarrass  and  thwart  you 
in  your  great  plans  and  excellent  designs  for  serving  the 
republic  of  letters.”  That  was  doubtless  an  allusion  to 
the  hindrances  offered,  during  nearly  half  a century,  to 
the  publication  of  Thoynard’s  1 Harmony  of  the  Gospels.’ 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4052;  Locke  to  Sloane,  27  Dec.,  1700.  A 
passage  in  this  letter  suggests  the  inference,  though  there  is  nothing  to 
confirm  it,  that  Locke  suspected  in  himself  the  threatenings  of  yet  another 
malady.  “ A diabetes  is  a disease  so  little  frequent  that  you  will  not  think 
it  strange  that  I should  ask  whether  you  in  your  great  practice  ever  met 
with  it.  You  will  do  me  the  favour  to  tell  me  the  pathognomonic  signs  of 
it,  and,  if  you  have  cured  it  or  known  it,  you  will  oblige  me  in  instructing 
me  in  the  method.” 


1701.  I 

■Et.  68.  J 


A LETTEIl  TO  THOYNAED. 


485 


“ God  grant  that  yon  may  see  the  end  of  all  this,  and 
enjoy  the  frnits  of  your  labours  at  last.  I pray,  too,  that 
I may  have  that  much-longed-for  sight  of  you  which  you 
promise.  The  infirmities  of  old  age,  pressing  very  heavily 
upon  me  in  late  years,  warn  me  of  my  speedy  departure. 
For  some  time  past  I have  been  kept  almost  entirely  in 
my  bed.  By  God’s  favour,  I have  been  somewhat  better 
lately,  and  I am  beginning  to  hope  that  I may  get  back 
to  some  of  my  old  ways ; but  an  old  man  like  me  can 
never  expect  to  recover  the  lungs  he  has  lost.  Yet  the 
hope  of  seeing  you  again  and  soon  gladdens  me.  If  I 
cannot  think  of  ever  visiting  you  in  Paris,  it  is  from  want 
of  strength,  not  want  of  will  ; and  you  must  not  be 
surprised  when  I tell  you  that  we  have  sent  up  our 
prayers  to  heaven  to  bring  you  here,  for  there  are  more 
than  one  in  this  house  who  would  rejoice  at  your  coming 
into  it,  and  among  them  Lady  Masham  is  not  the  last.”  1 
All  Locke’s  friends  were  Damaris  Masham’s  friends. 
There  was  no  link  wanting  in  the  chain  of  pure  affection 
that  bound  these  two,  adopted  daughter  and  adopted 
father,  together.  If  accident,  in  fortunately  preserving 
for  us  several  of  Locke’s  letters  to  Esther  Masham, 
whereas  none  of  his  correspondence  with  her  step-mother 
is  extant,  gives  us  more  details  about  his  relations  with 
the  younger  lady,  Esther  was  certainly  not  more  loved 

tby  him  and  devoted  to  him  than  Lady  Masham.  With 
the  one  he  read  novels  and  the  Bible,  with  the  other  he 
read  travel  books  and  the  Bible.  By  both  he  was  cheered 
and  cherished  during  these  last  years  in  which  his  feet 
stumbled  but  his  heart  went  bravely  down  into  the  valley 
that  had  no  dismal  shade  for  him. 

That  all  was  done  which  could  be  done  in  the  way  of  ten- 
1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  28753  ; Locke  to  Thoynard,  1 Jan.,  1700-1. 


486 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


der  nursing  to  ease  his  bodily  pain  and  weakness  through 
these  times,  we  may  be  quite  sure.  “ 1 cannot  yet  get 
my  legs  well,”  he  wrote  to  Clarke,  in  February,  1700-1. 
“ They  so  much  inconvenience  me  when  I am  up,  that 
they  make  me  spend  most  of  my  time  in  bed,  wherein 
I have  no  great  satisfaction.  As  to  my  lungs,  they  keep 
their  ordinary  course,  and  feel  the  effects  of  winter.”1 
Four  days  later  he  said  to  the  same  friend,  “You  must 
excuse  me  to  my  wife  for  not  writing  to  her.  ’Tis  with 
much  ado  I get  time  for  this.  My  untoward  legs  made 
me  keep  my  bed  all  day  yesterday,  and  I think  I shall  do 
the  same  to-day  ; for  I am  not  yet  up,  and  it  is  now  past 
two  in  the  afternoon.”2  But  he  mended  in  the  spring. 
“ I saw  Mr.  Locke  lately  in  Essex,”  wrote  his  old  pupil, 
Anthony  Ashley,  now  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  in  his  turn, 
early  in  May.  “ He  is  as  well  as  I have  known  him.” 3 
In  spite  of  his  illness  and  his  withdrawal  from  all  share 
in  political  work,  save  in  advising  his  friends,  Locke 
continued  to  take  great  interest  in  public  affairs.  We  have 
seen  something  of  the  temper  of  the  parliament  elected 
in  1698.  Growing  more  and  more  stubborn  and  perverse, 
it  was  dissolved  before  its  time,  in  the  autumn  of  1700 ; 
and  great  things  were  hoped  for  by  both  whigs  and  tories 
from  the  new  parliament  summoned  to  meet  on  the  11th 
of  February,  1700-1.  A war  with  Spain — the  great  war 
of  the  Spanish  succession — was  imminent ; the  Duke  of 
Gloucester  being  dead,  a new  successor  to  the  throne  after 
William  and  Anne  had  to  be  fixed  upon ; and  all  sorts  of 
domestic  questions  joined  with  these,  or  even  superseded 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290 ; Locke  to  Clarke,  10  Feb.,  1700-1. 

2 Ibid.;  Locke  to  Clarke,  14  Feb.,  1700-1. 

3 Shaftesbury  Papers,  series  v.,  no.  23  ; Third  Lord  Shaftesbury  to  Furly. 
6 May,  1701. 


1701.  1 

JEt.  63.  J 


INTEREST  IN  POLITICAL  AFFAIRS. 


487 


them,  in  giving  new  vigour  to  the  party  struggle  that  had 
been  growing  fiercer  and  fiercer  during  the  past  two  or 
three  years.  “ This  is  not  a time  to  be  ill  in,”  Locke 
wrote  to  Clarke  in  one  of  his  February  letters,  on  the  eve 
of  the  meeting  of  the  new  parliament,  after  giving  him 
some  advice  about  his  health.1  “ I return  you  my  thanks 
for  yours  of  the  11th  instant,”  he  wrote  soon  after,  “with 
the  heads  of  the  speech” — the  king’s  speech — “in  it. 
I have  since  seen  the  speech  itself,  and,  though  all  the 
rest  are  fit  for  the  consideration  of  the  great  council  of 
the  nation,  yet  there  is  none  hut  the  second  that  seems 
at  present  fit  to  take  up  your  time  and  thoughts,  for, 
unless  it  he  so  well  considered  as  to  provide  a security 
for  us  and  the  rest  of  Europe,  what  making  a stir  and 
provisions  about  the  rest  will  signify  I confess  I do  not 
see.  But  ’tis  like  I may  mistake,  and  you  will  forgive 
these  melancholy  visions  of  a man  out  of  the  world,  who 
lies  abed  and  dreams.”2 

Locke’s  interest  in  public  business  was  especially 
shown,  however,  in  connection  with  his  cousin,  Peter 
King.  Having  made  a prosperous  beginning  at  the  bar, 

: chiefly,  it  would  seem,  through  Locke’s  acquaintance  with 
so  many  leading  men,  with  Lord  Somers  at  their  head, 
who  would  be  eager  to  prove  their  regard  for  him  by 
helping  his  kinsman,  King  had  in  the  autumn  been 
elected  member  of  parliament  for  Berealston,  his  purpose 
in  entering  the  house  of  commons  being  rather  to  advance 
his  professional  interests  than  to  take  much  part  in  poli- 
tics. Having  gained  his  seat,  he  proposed  to  make  no 
use  of  it  in  the  spring  until  he  had,  as  usual,  gone  on  the 
western  circuit,  where  perhaps  he  knew  that  some  good 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290;  Locke  to  Clarke,  10  Feb.,  1700-1. 

2 Ibid. ; Locke  to  Clarke,  Feb.,  14  1700-1. 


483 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 

briefs  were  waiting  for  him.  But  Locke  would  not  hear 
of  this.  “ I am  as  positive  as  I can  he  in  anything,”  he 
wrote  a fortnight  before  the  opening  of  parliament,  “ that 
you  should  not  think  of  going  the  next  circuit.  I do  not 
in  the  meantime  forget  your  calling ; but  what  this  one 
omission  may  be  of  loss  to  you  may  be  made  up  other- 
wise.” It  is  clear  that  Locke  intended  to  pay  out  of  his 
own  purse  the  value  of  the  forfeited  briefs  ; certainly  an 
allowable  bribe.  “I  am  sure,”  he  continued,  “ there 
never  was  so  critical  a time  when  every  honest  member  of 
parliament  ought  to  watch  his  trust ; and  that  you  will 
see,  before  the  end  of  the  next  vacation.  I therefore 
expect  your  positive  promise  to  stay  in  town.  I tell  you 
you  will  not,  you  shall  not,  repent  it.  I cannot  answer 
the  other  parts  of  your  letter,  lest  I say  nothing  at  all 
this  post,  and  I must  not  omit  by  it  to  put  an  end  to  your 
wavering  about  your  going  the  circuit.”  1 

The  next  parcel  of  letters  from  Oates  to  London  con- 
tained this  one,  interesting  for  other  things  besides  the 
excellent  advice  to  an  unfledged  member  of  parliament 
given  in  it : — 


“ Dear  Cousin, — Having  no  time  but  for  a few  words  the  last  post,  it  is 
fit  I now  answer  the  other  particulars  of  your  letter,  which  I then  was 
forced  to  omit.  Your  staying  in  town  the  next  vacation  I look  upon  as 
resolved,  and  the  reasons  I find  for  it  in  your  own  letters — now  that  I have 
time  to  read  them  a little  more  deliberately — I think  sufficient  to  determine 
you  should,  though  I say  nothing  at  all.  Every  time  I think  of  it  I am 
more  and  more  confirmed  in  the  opinion  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  in 
all  respects,  whether  I consider  the  public  or  your  own  private  concerns, 
neither  of  which  are  indifferent  to  me.  It  is  my  private  thought  that  the 
parliament  will  scarce  sit  even  so  much  as  to  choose  a speaker  before  the 
end  of  the  term  ; but  whenever  he  is  chosen,  it  is  of  no  small  consequence 
which  side  carries  it,  if  there  be  two  nominated,  or  at  least  in  view,  as  it 


1 Lord  King,  p.  253  ; Locke  to  King,  27  Jan.,  1700-1. 


1701.  1 

2Et.  68.  J 


LETTERS  TO  PETER  KING. 


489 


is  ten  to  one  there  will  be,  especially  in  a parliament  chosen  with  so  much 
struggle. 

“ Having  given  all  the  help  possibly  you  can  in  this,  which  is  usually 
a leading  point,  showing  the  strength  of  the  parties,  my  next  advice  to  you 
is  not  to  speak  at  all  in  the  house  for  some  time,  whatever  fair  opportunity 
you  may  seem  to  have  ; but  though  you  keep  your  mouth  shut,  I doubt 
not  but  you  will  have  your  eyes  open  to  see  the  temper  and  observe  the 
motions  of  the  house,  and  diligently  to  remark  the  skill  of  management, 
and  carefully  watch  the  first  and  secret  beginnings  of  things  and  their 
tendencies,  and  endeavour,  if  there  be  danger  in  them,  to  crush  them  in 
the  egg.  You  will  say,  what  can  you  do  who  are  not  to  speak  ? It  is 
true  I would  not  have  you  speak  to  the  house,  but  you  may  communicate 
your  light  or  apprehensions  to  some  honest  speaker  who  may  make  use  of 
it ; for  there  have  always  been  very  able  members  who  never  speak,  who 
yet  by  their  penetration  and  foresight  have  this  way  done  as  much  service 
as  any  within  those  walls.  And  hereby  you  will  more  recommend  yourself, 
when  people  shall  observe  so  much  modesty  joined  with  your  parts  and 
i judgment,  than  if  you  should  seem  forward  though  you  spoke  well.  But 
let  the  man  you  communicate  with  be  not  only  well-intentioned,  but  a man 
of  judgment. 

“ Methinks  I take  too  much  upon  me  in  these  directions.  I have  only 
then  to  say  in  my  excuse  that  you  desired  it  more  than  once,  and  I advise 
you  nothing  I would  not  do  myself  were  I in  your  place.  I should  have 
much  more  to  say  to  you  were  you  here,  but,  it  being  fitter  for  discourse 
than  for  letter,  I hope  I may  see  you  here  ere  long,  Sir  Francis  having 
already  proposed  to  me  your  stealing  down  sometimes  with  him  on  Satur- 
day and  returning  on  Monday.  The  ‘votes’ you  offer  me  will  be  very 
acceptable,  and  for  some  time  at  least  during  the  busy  season  I would  be 
glad  you  would  send  me,  every  post,  the  three  newspapers,  viz.,  Postman, 
Postboy,  and  Flying  Post ; but  when  you  begin  to  send  them  you  will  do 
me  a kindness  to  stop  Mr.  Churchill  from  sending  me  any  more,  for  he 
sends  them  now ; but  it  is  by  the  butcher  they  come,  and  very  uncertainly. 
But  when  you  send  me  these  papers,  do  not  think  you  are  bound  always  to 
write  to  me.  Though  I am  always  glad  to  hear  from  you,  yet  I must  not 
put  that  penance  upon  you.  Things  of  moment  I doubt  not  but  you  will 
let  me  know. 

“ I am  your  affectionate  cousin, 

“ J.  L.”  1 


1 Lord  "King,  p.  258  ; Locke  to  King,  81  Jan.,  1700-1. 


490 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


Before  receiving  that  second  letter,  King  wrote  to  say 
that  the  first  had  prevailed  with  him.  “ I am  glad  to  find 
that  yon  are  resolved  to  stay,”  Locke  replied  in  the 
following  week.  “ Your  own  resolution,  in  case  of  un- 
foreseen accidents,  will  always  he  in  your  power ; or,  if 
you  will  make  me  your  compliment  that  you  will  not  go 
without  my  leave,  you  may  be  sure  that,  in  any  unforeseen 
and  pressing  occasion  that  may  happen  that  may  make  it 
necessary  for  you,  you  will  not  only  have  my  leave  but 
my  persuasion  to  go.  But,  as  things  are,  I think  it  for 
your  interest  to  stay.”  1 

Though  he  followed  his  wise  cousin’s  counsel  in 
devoting  himself  to  parliamentary  work,  King  was  not 
able  to  act  upon  another  part  of  Locke’s  advice.  A 
fortnight  after  taking  his  seat  in  the  house  of  commons, 
he  made  his  maiden  speech  ; and  Locke,  instead  of  blam- 
ing him,  cautiously  congratulated  him  upon  it.  “I  am 
very  glad  the  ice  is  broke,”  he  said,  “and  that  it  has 
succeeded  so  well ; but,  now  you  have  showed  the  house 
you  can  speak,  I advise  you  to  let  them  see  you  can  hold  I 
your  peace, — and  let  nothing  but  some  point  of  law, 
which  you  are  perfectly  clear  in,  or  the  utmost  necessity, 
call  you  up  again.”  2 This  latter  advice  seems  to  have 
been  followed.  Peter  King  made  very  little  figure  in 
parliament.  He  rose  to  be  lord  chancellor,  but  by  virtue 
of  his  honesty  and  proficiency  in  the  technicalities  of  the 
law,  rather  than  by  force  of  oratory  or  genius. 

In  the  Easter  holidays  the  young  Earl  of  Shaftesbury 
went  down  with  King  to  pay  the  short  visit  to  Locke 
which  has  already  been  mentioned,  and  Benjohan  Eurly, 
the  eldest  son  of  his  friend  in  Amsterdam,  was  also  at 

1 Lord  King,  p.  254  ; Locke  to  King,  7 Feb.,  1700-1. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  255  ; Locke  to  King,  28  Feb.,  1700-1. 


1701.  "I 
.St.  68. J 


limboech’s  son. 


491 


Oates,  the  youth  having  lately  come  to  England  to  enter 
the  office  of  a London  merchant.1 

Another  visitor  at  that  time,  or  immediately  afterwards, 
was  Limborch’s  son,  sent  over,  like  young  Furly,  to 
obtain  commercial  training  in  London,  and  committed 
to  Locke’s  guardianship.  “ Very  welcome  to  us  all,” 
Locke  wrote  to  the  father,  11  was  the  arrival  of  your  son, 
and  to  me  all  the  more  because  in  your  entrusting  him  to 
me  I find  another  proof  of  your  confidence  in  me.  If  I 
can  lay  claim  to  any  good  faith,  energy,  gratitude,  power 
of  giving  good  advice,  your  trust  will  not  be  misplaced.  I 
doubt  not  that  his  industry,  uprightness,  tact  and  truth- 
fulness will  easily  find  him  friends  and  occupation,  if  he 
can  quietly  and  hopefully  put  up  with  a small  beginning 
and  some  delays,  for  young  traders  who  shift  their  ground 
are  like  transplanted  trees  ; they  do  well  enough  if  in  the 
first  year  they  get  their  roots  fairly  in  the  soil.  I have 
not  lately  had  much  to  do  with  merchants,  since  my  health 
has  kept  me  away  from  town  and  all  sorts  of  business. 
But  I have  taken  counsel  with  some  honest  men  among 
them,  and  Lady  Masham  and  I will  do  the  best  we  can 
for  him.  When  I go  to  London,  which  I hope  to  do 
shortly,  I will  see  what  arrangements  I can  make,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  he  wall  readily  understand  that  he  must 
take  the  greatest  care  not  to  put  faith  in  any  whose 
integrity  has  not  been  proved  and  whose  stability  is  not 
beyond  question.  Nor  do  I doubt  that,  in  the  end,  he 
will  prosper,  for  virtue  and  honesty  always  thrive,  though 
perhaps  but  slowly.  You  may  be  quite  sure  that  he  will 
always  find  in  me  a friend  and  adviser.”2 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4052  ; Locke  to  Sloane,  14  July,  1701. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library ; Locke  to  Limborck,  21  May, 

1701. 


492 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Ch*p.  XV 


It  was  probably  in  order  that  be  might  make  suitable 
arrangements  for  this  youth  that  Locke  went  up  to 
London  in  June,  where  he  was  in  “ a perpetual  hurry,”  as 
he  said  during  his  short  stay,  and  whence  he  retreated  as 
soon  as  his  business  would  permit.1  “ Whatever  little 
help  I have  been  able  to  render  to  your  son,”  he  wrote  to 
Limborch  a few  weeks  after  his  return,  in  answer  to  a 
letter  of  thanks,  “ must  rather  be  regarded  as  a token  of 
my  gratitude  than,  as  you  think,  as  a burden  put  upon 
me  by  our  friendship.  Surely  you  know  how  anxious  I 
am  to  serve  you  to  the  utmost  of  my  power  in  any  useful 
way.  If  by  advice,  assistance,  kind  words  or  anything 
else  I can  help  him,  I shall  not  be  wanting.  I hardly 
think  that  many  words  are  needed  to  assure  you  of 
that.”  2 

Having  better  health  than  he  had  hoped  for  during  the 
summer  of  1701,  Locke  spent  some  portions  of  it  iu 
applying  his  old  medical  knowledge  in  ministering  to  the 
ailments  of  his  friends  the  cottagers  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Oates.  About  one  case,  which  proved  stubborn,  he 
wrote  to  consult  Dr.  Sloane  in  August.  “ I have  a patient 
here  sick  of  the  fever  of  this  season,”  he  said.  “ It  seems 
to  be  not  violent ; but  I am  told  ’tis  a sort  that  is  not 
easily  got  off.  I desire  to  know  of  you  whether  the  fevers 
in  town  are,  and  what  method  you  find  most  successful  in 
them.  I shall  be  obliged  by  your  favour,  if  you  will  give 
me  a word  or  two  by  to-morrow’s  post.”3 

Being  so  much  stronger  than  he  expected  to  be  during 
this  summer,  Locke  could  more  easily  spare  one  of  his 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4052  ; Locke  to  Sloane,  14  July,  1701. 

2 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants  Library ; Locke  to  Limborch,  12  August, 
1701. 

3 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4052;  Locke  to  Sloane,  22  August,  1701. 


it°<y  ANOTHER  LETTER  TO  ESTHER  MASHAM.  493 

nurses,  and  Laudabridis  was  away  for  some  months, 
staying  with  friends  at  Hackney  and  elsewhere.  As 
autumn  quickened  his  old  maladies  he  could  not  so  well 
do  'without  her,  and  he  gently  hinted  at  this  in  the  last 
letter  to  her  that  has  been  preserved.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
last  written  by  him  to  her;  for  from  this  time  neither 
Esther  nor  Lady  Masham  seems  to  have  been  often  parted 
from  him,  until  the  final  parting  came.  The  letter  was 
written  in  November. 

“Dear  Dib, — Your  Johannes  has  been  long  indebted  to  you  for  a kind 
letter,  and,  though  he  has  desired  others  to  give  you  his  thanks,  yet  he 
thinks  not  that  enough,  nor  can  he  consent  to  defer  it  to  a personal  view, 
since  you  so  long  prefer  the  delights  of  the  town  to  the  country  company 
here.  Give  me  leave  therefore  to  return  you  my  acknowledgments  with 
my  own  hands  for  that  favour  and  to  tell  you  that,  though  I find  your  letters 
good,  which  I owe  to  your  absence,  yet  they  the  more  persuade  me  that 
your  company  is  better,  and  that  I shall  always  be  desirous  to  change  the 
one  for  the  other.  ’Tis  talked  here  that  you  are  preparing  to  satisfy  my 
wishes  in  this  matter,  and  that  you  give  some  hopes  that  we  shall  in  a little 
while  see  you  here  again. 

“ I have  one  favour  to  beg  of  you  before  you  come  out  of  town,  and  that 
is,  that  when  you  call  at  Mr.  Churchill’s,  which  I presume  you  will  do,  you 
would  call  upon  him  for  a folio  Bible  in  quires  which  I have  spoke  to  him 
for,  and  that  you  would  let  it  come  down  amongst  your  clothes,  where  it 
will  lie  very  quiet  and  inoffensively,  being  unbound.  I should  not  trouble 
you  with  it,  but  that  I am  afraid  to  venture  it  to  the  butcher,  for  fear,  as  often 
falls  out,  it  should  in  that  way  be  wet  or  sullied,  and  this  is  a book  which 
I am  at  the  charge  for  only  to  have  it  a very  fair  one.  I am,  D.  D.,  your 
most  faithful  and  obedient  “ Johannes.”1 

Writing  a few  days  later  to  Limborch,  Locke  closed  a 
long  letter  tlms  : “If  there  are  any  points  in  your  letter 
which  you  think  I have  not  answered  clearly  enough,  I 
beg  you  to  find  an  excuse  for  me  in  my  illness,  which 

1 Letters  from  Friends  and  Relations,  vol.  i.,  pp.  153,  154;  Locke  to 
Esther  Masham,  7 Nov.,  1701. 


494 


LAST  YE  AES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


. 


makes  me  so  weak  that  it  is  very  difficult  for  me  to  write 
at  all.”1  That  is  all  the  information  we  have  about  his 


health  during  the  winter  of  1701-2.  If  his  breathing  was 


as  troublesome  as  ever,  and  the  pressure  of  old  age  was 
stronger  than  ever,  he  appears  notwithstanding  to  have 


been  afflicted  with  no  additional  maladies. 

Several  very  long  and  very  interesting  letters  passed 
between  Locke  and  Limborch  during  1701  and  part  of 
1702,  being  chiefly  occupied  with  friendly  argument  about 
the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,’  and  espe- 
cially that  chapter  of  it  which  treated  of  power,  liberty 
and  “free-will.”2  Limborch  had  had  to  wait  ten 
years  before  he  could  for  the  first  time  make  a study  of 
the  work  in  Pierre  Coste’s  French  translation,  and  then, 
after  reading  it  through  and  through,  he  had  to  deplore 
that  his  slight  knowledge  of  French  left  him  in  doubt  as 
to  Locke’s  meaning.  When  in  1701  Burridge’s  Latin 
version  appeared,  he  was  able  to  read  it  more  intelligently, 


and  then,  with  great  force  of  argument,  he  gave  his 
reasons  for  differing  from  certain  portions  of  it,  and  Locke, 
to  say  the  least,  as  forcibly  defended  his  positions.  This 
controversy  is  in  admirable  contrast  to  that  provoked  by 
Bishop  Stillingfleet  nearly  six  years  before.  Limborch 
the  brave  champion  of  opinions  that  he  had  formed  for 
himself  and  cherished  through  long  years,  because  he  held 
them  to  be  true,  hardly  differed  more  from  Stillingfleet, 
the  dishonest  perverter  of  views  that  were  obnoxious  to 
him,  not  from  any  convictions  of  his  own,  but  because  he 
was  the  professional  advocate  of  dogmas  that  he  took 
along  with  his  bishop’s  wages,  than  Locke,  when  gener- 
ously defending  himself  from  a theologian  and  metaphysi- 


1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  524  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  13  Nov.,  1701. 

2 Ibid. , pp.  466 — 530. 


zEt'oy— 71.]  THEOLOGICAL  AND  BIBLICAL  STUDIES.  495 

cian  worthy  to  draw  swords  with  him,  differed  from  Locke 
when  he  was  forced  to  resist  the  under-hand  attacks  and 
poisoned  weapons  of  a would-be  assassin. 

But  while  in  these  letters  he  showed  himself,  in  spite  of 
his  old  age,  as  able  as  ever  to  discuss  the  problems  of 
theological  metaphysics,  he  seems  now  to  have  taken 
special  interest  in  the  simpler  aspects  of  religion.  The 
spirit  that  led  him  in  1695  to  make  the  studies  of  Christ’s 
life  and  mission  to  the  world  which  took  shape  in  ‘ The 
Beasonableness  of  Christianity,’  appeared  afterwards  in 
other  hooks  of  the  same  sort.  His  scurrilous  opponent, 
John  Edwards,  had  reproached  him  for  having,  as  he  said, 
drawn  all  the  arguments  contained  in  ‘ The  Beasonable- 
ness of  Christianity  ’ from  the  Gospels  and  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  and  ignored  the  Epistles.  From  that  reproach 
Locke  cleared  himself  in  his  ‘ Vindications,’  but  it  may 
have  helped  to  induce  him  to  enter  on  a new  and  careful 
study  of  Paul’s  writings  during  the  closing  years  of  his 
life.  . 

“ Though  I had  been  conversant  in  these  epistles,  as 
well  as  in  other  parts  of  sacred  scripture,”  he  said,  “yet 
I found  that  I understood  them  not — I mean  the  doctrinal 
and  discursive  parts  of  them ; though  the  practical  direc- 
tions, which  are  usually  dropped  in  the  latter  part  of  each 
epistle,  appeared  to  me  very  plain,  intelligible  and  in- 
structive. I did  not,  when  I reflected  on  it,  very  much 
wonder  that  this  part  of  sacred  scripture  had  difficulties 
in  it : many  causes  of  obscurity  did  readily  occur  to  me. 
The  nature  of  epistolary  writings,  in  general,  disposes  the 
writer  to  pass  by  the  mentioning  of  many  things,  as  well 
known  to  him  to  whom  his  letter  is  addressed,  which  are 
necessary  to  he  laid  open  to  a stranger  to  make  him  com- 
prehend what  is  said ; and  it  not  seldom  falls  out  that  a 


496 


LAST  YE  AES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


well-penned  letter,  which  is  very  easy  and  intelligible  to 
the  receiver,  is  very  obscure  to  a stranger,  who  hardly 
knows  what  to  make  of  it.”  The  divers  temperaments 
and  characters  of  the  different  individuals  or  gatherings 
of  Christians  to  whom  the  letters  were  addressed  ; the 
writer’s  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  language  which 
he  found  it  necessary  to  employ,  or  at  any  rate  his  diffi- 
culty in  suitably  expressing  the  thoughts  of  a sober- 
minded  Jew  in  “ the  language  of  a very  witty,  volatile 
people,  seekers  after  novelty  and  abounding  with  variety 
of  notions  and  sects  to  which  they  applied  the  terms  of 
their  common  tongue  with  great  liberty  and  variety,”  so 
that  he  had  to  clothe  Hebrew  or  Syriac  idioms  in  Greek 
terms ; the  peculiarities  of  the  writer’s  own  style  and 
temper,  his  habit  of  jerking  out  hints  of  arguments,  with- 
out attempting  to  state  them  coherently  or  to  check  the 
irregular  rush  of  his  thoughts,  diverted  into  fresh  channels 
by  every  new  question  or  incident  that  stood  in  their 
way ; — these  were  some  of  the  primary  difficulties  that 
Locke  found  in  Paul’s  letters  to  his  friends  and  disciples. 
Other  difficulties  towards  understanding  them  arose  from 
the  persistent  perversions  of  Paul’s  meaning  by  long 
generations  of  mischievous  commentators,  aided,  acci- 
dentally if  not  designedly,  by  the  unfair  splitting  up  of 
these  epistles,  as  well  as  of  all  other  parts  of  the  Bible, 
into  chapters  and  verses.  “Nothing  is  more  acceptable 
to  fancy  than  pliant  terms  and  expressions  that  are  not 
obstinate.  In  such  it  can  find  its  account  with  delight, 
and  with  them  be  illuminated,  orthodox,  infallible,  at 
pleasure,  and  in  its  own  way.  Where  the  sense  of  the 
author  goes  visibly  in  its  own  train,  and  the  words,  re- 
ceiving a determined  sense  from  their  companions  and 
adjacents,  will  not  consent  to  give  countenance  and  colour 


.Et.7u9-71.]  ‘AN  ESSAY  ON  ST.  PAUL’S  EPISTLES.’  497 

to  what  is  agreed  to  he  right,  and  mnst  he  supported  at 
any  rate,  there  men  of  established  orthodoxy  do  not  so 
well  find  their  satisfaction  ; and  perhaps  it  would  be  no 
extravagant  paradox  to  say  that  there  are  fewer  that 
bring  then’  opinions  to  the  sacred  scripture,  to  be  tried  by 
that  infallible  rule,  than  bring  the  sacred  scripture  to 
their  opinions,  to  bend  it  to  them,  to  make  it,  as  they 
can,  a cover  and  guard  of  them.  And  to  this  purpose  its 
being  divided  into  verses,  and  brought,  as  much  as  may 
be,  into  loose  and  general  aphorisms,  makes  it  most  useful 
and  serviceable.”  Ordinary  people  take  the  Bible  as  it  is 
offered  to  them,  and  are  thus,  and  by  the  conventional 
views  of  their  party,  led  at  once  into  many  errors.  If 
they  are  in  doubt,  they  go  to  commentaries,  and  the  com- 
mentator propounds  to  them  not  the  teaching  of  the 
Bible,  but  his  own  dogmas,  “ every  sect  being  perfectly 
orthodox  in  his  own  judgment.”  “What  a great  and 
invincible  darkness  must  this  cast  upon  St.  Paul’s  meaning 
to  all  those  of  that  way  in  all  those  places  where  his 
thoughts  and  sense  run  counter  to  what  any  party  has 
espoused  for  orthodox  ! ” “I  doubt  not  but  every  one  will 
confess  it  to  be  a veiy  unlikely  way  to  come  to  the  under- 
standing of  any  other  letters,  to  read  them  piecemeal,  a 
bit  to-day  and  another  scrap  to-morrow  and  so  on  by 
broken  intervals  ; especially  if  the  pause  and  cessation 
should  be  made  as  the  chapters  the  apostle’s  epistles  are 
divided  into,  ending  sometimes  in  the  middle  of  a discourse 
and  sometimes  in  the  middle  of  a sentence.  If  Tully’s 
epistles  were  so  printed  and  so  used,  I ask  whether  they 
would  not  be  much  harder  to  be  understood,  less  easy  and 
less  pleasant  to  be  read,  by  much,  than  now  they  are.”1 

1 ‘ An  Essay  for  the  Understanding  of  St.  Paul’s  Epistles  by  consulting 
St.  Paul  himself'  (1707). 

Vol.  II.— 32 


t 


498 


LAST  TEARS, 


[Chap.  XV. 


In  that  moocl,  discarding  all  prejudice  and  precedent 
— tilings  overlapping  one  another,  if  not  identical  in  his 
opinion — Locke  set  himself  to  study  the  writings  of  St. 
Paul.  He  acknowledged  only  one  difference  between 
Paul’s  letters  and  other  men’s  letters,  that  “ he  had  light 
from  heaven ; it  was  God  himself  furnished  him,  and  he 
could  not  want.”  In  that  light,  however,  he  refused  to 
acknowledge  any  ground  for  exempting  this  writer’s 
words  and  sentences,  any  more  than  those  of  any  other 
contributor  to  the  Bible,  from  the  ordinary  rules  of  criti- 
cism. He  rather  held  that  the  strongest  proof  of  divine 
light  or  revelation  is  its  capacity  to  use  the  universal 
weapons  of  reason  in  winning  authority  for  doctrines 
above  the  reach  of  mere  reason,  but  in  no  way  incon- 
sistent with  reason.  This,  as  we  have  seen,  he  had 
insisted  upon  in  his  * Essay  concerning  Human  Under- 
standing’ and  elsewhere.  He  only  gave  special  appli- 
cation to  the  maxim  in  his  inquiry  as  to  the  meaning  of  j 
Paul’s  epistles. 

That  inquiry  was  made  only  for  himself  and  for  his 
own  guidance,  or  at  most  only  for  the  guidance  also 
of  a few  intimate  friends,  among  whom  Lady  Masham 
was  foremost.  She  had  accompanied  him  day  by  day 
through  the  studies  that  had  issued  in  ‘ The  Reason- 
ableness of  Christianity.’  We  may  be  quite  sure  that 
she  followed  him  as  zealously  in  the  studies  concerning 
the  reasonableness  of  Paul’s  exposition  of  Christianity, 
which  occupied  much  of  the  leisure  of  his  declining 
years  at  Oates,  and  especially,  it  would  seem,  of  the 
summer-times  of  1701,  1702,  and  1703. 

Starting,  apparently,  with  the  Epistle  to  the  Gala- 
tians, and  after  that  examining  the  First  and  Second 
Epistles  to  the  Corinthians,  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans 


^69-71.]  COMMENTARIES  ON  ST.  PAUL’S  EPISTLES. 


499 


and  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  he  gave  in  each  case 
the  authorised  English  translation  in  parallel  columns 
with  a very  close  paraphrase  ; dividing  them  into  sections, 
each  section  as  well  as  each  separate  epistle  being  pre- 
faced by  a short  explanatory  introduction,  and  appending 
copious  textual  and  expository  notes.  These  commentaries 
are  of  extreme  interest  as  showing  the  frame  of  mind  in 
which  Locke  set  himself  to  his  new  undertaking,  and  in 
part  achieved  it,  and  they  are  of  considerable  value  as 
models  of  the  only  true  way  of  attempting  to  understand 
the  thoughts  and  contents  of  the  Bible ; but  they  do  not 
call  for  detailed  notice  here.  Locke’s  criticisms  may  be 
superseded ; but  his  excellent  example  ought  surely  to 
furnish  an  absolute  and  inviolable  rule  to  all  commentators 
who  desire  really  to  understand  and  explain  the  venerated 
writings  that  they  profess  to  explain  and  understand,  in 
showing  how,  without  bias  of  any  sort,  those  writings 
ought  to  be  regarded  as  human  utterances,  partial  and 
incomplete,  of  the  truths  committed  to  them,  how  so 
much  of  them  as  was  manifestly  intended  only  for  the 
guidance  and  information  of  special  individuals  and  groups 
of  individuals  ought  to  be  distinguished  from  the  portions 
suited  to  the  guidance  and  information  of  all  men,  and 
how  unreservedly  even  those  portions  ought  to  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  one  final  test,  not  of  truth  but  of  trust- 
worthiness, the  capacity  of  human  understanding  to 
apprehend  them.  It  was  in  beautiful  harmony  with  all 
else  in  the  life  of  such  a devout  Christian  as  Locke  that 
he  should  employ  the  best  energy  of  his  last  years  in  this 
work. 

He  found  satisfaction  in  the  studies  that  he  had  entered 
upon  merely  for  his  own  profit,  and  was  ultimately  in- 
duced to  agree  to  his  notes  being  printed,  and  to  prepare 


500 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XT. 


an  introduction  to  them.  “ Till  I took  this  way,”  he 
said,  “ St.  Paul’s  epistles  to  me,  in  the  ordinary  way  of 
reading  and  studying  them,  were  very  obscure  parts  of 
scripture,  that  left  me  everywhere  at  a loss,  and  I was  at 
a great  uncertainty  in  which  of  the  contrary  senses  that 
were  to  be  found  in  his  commentators  he  was  to  be  taken. 
Whether  what  I have  done  has  made  it  any  clearer  or 
more  visible  now,  I must  leave  others  to  judge.  This  I 
beg  leave  to  say  for  myself,  that,  if  some  very  sober, 
judicious  Christians,  no  strangers  to  the  sacred  scriptures, 
nay,  learned  divines  of  the  church  of  England,  had  not 
professed  that  by  the  perusal  of  these  following  papers  they 
understood  the  epistles  much  better  than  they  did  before, 
and  had  not,  with  repeated  instances,  pressed  me  to 
publish  them,  I should  not  have  consented  they  should 
have  gone  beyond  my  own  private  use,  for  which  they 
were  at  first  designed,  and  where  they  made  me  not  repent 
my  pains.”  “ The  same  reasons  that  put  me  upon  what 
I have  in  these  papers  done,”  he  added,  “ will  exempt  me 
from  all  suspicion  of  imposing  my  interpretation  on 
others.  The  reasons  that  led  me  into  the  meaning  which 
prevailed  on  my  mind  are  set  down  with  it.  As  far  as 
they  carry  light  and  conviction  to  any  other  man’s  under- 
standing, so  far  I hope  my  labour  may  be  of  some  use  to 
him.  Beyond  the  evidence  it  carries  with  it,  I advise 
him  not  to  follow  mine  or  any  man’s  interpretation.  We 
are  all  men,  liable  to  errors,  and  infected  with  them,  but 
have  this  sure  way  to  preserve  ourselves,  every  one,  from 
danger  by  them,  if,  laying  aside  sloth,  carelessness, 
prejudice,  party,  and  a reverence  of  men,  we  betake  our- 
selves in  earnest  to  the  study  of  the  way  to  salvation  in 
those  holy  writings  wherein  God  has  revealed  it  from 
heaven  and  proposed  it  to  the  world,  seeking  our  religion 


^iv,]  COMMENTARIES  ON  ST.  PAUL’S  EPISTLES.  501 

where  we  are  sure  it  is  in  truth  to  he  found,  comparing 
spiritual  things  with  spiritual  things.”1 

Though  these  manuscripts  were  evidently  arranged  by 
Locke  himself  for  the  press,  and  out  of  his  hands  before 
his  death,  they  were  not  published  till  after  it,  and  then 
only  at  intervals,  in  six  instalments.  ‘ A Paraphrase  and 
Notes  on  the  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Galatians  ’ 
appeared — like  the  others  anonymously — in  1705,  ‘ A 
Paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the  First  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to 
the  Corinthians  ’ and  ‘ A Paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the 
Second  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Corinthians  ’ in  1706, 
‘ A Paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to 
the  Eomans  ’ and  ‘ A Paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the 
Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Ephesians  ’ in  1707,  and 
finally,  in  the  same  year,  ‘ An  Essay  for  the  Understand- 
ing of  St.  Paul’s  Epistles  by  consulting  St.  Paul  himself.’ 
All  these  treatises  together  occupy  only  a fourth  less  space 
than  ‘ An  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.’ 


The  parliament  that  had  met  in  February,  1700-1  was 
suddenly  dissolved  in  the  following  November,  the  king 
being  anxious  to  have  duly  represented  in  it  the  popular 
favour  that  had  been  aroused  by  the  Grand  Alliance,  which 
had  been  signed  in  September  and  was  soon  to  issue  in 
the  war  of  the  Spanish  succession.  This  was  a time  of 
great  excitement,  and  Locke  shared  some  of  it.  “ I have 
received  the  prints  you  sent  me,”  he  wrote  to  Peter  King 
a few  days  after  the  opening  of  the  new  parliament  in 
December.  “ I have  read  the  king’s  speech,  which  is  so 
gracious  and  expresses  so  high  concern  for  the  religion, 

1 1 An  Essay  for  the  Understanding  of  St.  Paul’s  Epistles  by  consulting 
St.  Paul  himself ’(1707). 


502 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


freedom,  and  interest  of  his  people,  that  metliinks  that, 
besides  what  the  two  houses  will  do  or  have  already  done, 
the  city  of  London  and  counties  of  England  and  all  those 
who  have  so  lately  addressed  him,  cannot  do  less  than 
with  joined  hearts  and  hands  return  him  addresses  of 
thanks  for  his  taking  such  care  of  them.  Think  of  this 
with  yourself,  and  think  of  it  with  others  who  can  and 
ought  to  think  how  to  save  us  out  of  the  hands  of  France, 
into  which  we  must  fall,  unless  the  whole  nation  exert  its 
utmost  vigour,  and  that  speedily.  Pray  send  me  the 
king’s  speech  printed  by  itself,  and  without  paring  off  the 
edges ; a list  also  of  the  members,  if  there  be  yet  any  one 
printed  complete  and  perfect.”1 

Whether  King  did  much  more  in  the  house  of  com- 
mons than  vote  on  the  right  side,  which  was  no  small 
service,  does  not  appear ; hut  all  that  he  did  was  done 
with  Locke’s  encouragement  and  approval,  and  he  had 
to  be  again  strongly  urged  to  forego  the  temptations  of 
the  western  circuit  and  devote  himself  to  the  interests  of 
his  country.  “ I am  more  pleased,”  Locke  wrote  at  the 
end  of  February,  1701-2,  “with  what  you  did  for  the 
public  the  day  of  your  last  letter  than  for  anything  you 
have  done  for  me  in  my  private  affairs,  though  I am  very 
much  beholden  to  you  for  that  too.  You  will  guess  by  all 
my  letters  to  you  of  late  how  acceptable  to  me  is  the 
news  of  your  not  going  out  of  town  the  beginning  of  the 
next  week.  You  see  what  need  there  is  of  every  one’s 
presence,  and  how  near  things  come.  Do  not  at  this 
time  lose  a week  by  going  to  Winchester  or  Salisbury. 
You  think  the  crisis  is  over ; but  you  know  the  men  are 
indefatigable  and  always  intent  on  opportunity  ; and  that 
will  make  new  crises,  be  but  absent  and  afford  occasion. 

1 Loi’d  King,  p.  256;  Locke  to  King,  3 Jan.,  1701-2. 


xEt.°69.]  WILLIAM  THE  THIRD’S  LAST  PARLIAMENT.  503 

I conclude,  therefore,  that  yon  will  stay  at  least  a week 
longer ; and  let  me  tell  you  it  can,  it  will,  it  shall  be  no 
loss  to  you.”  1 

But  four  days  afterwards  Locke  had  to  write  even  more 
earnestly  to  his  cousin.  “ I imagine  by  what  you  say  of 
the  circuit  that  you  have  not  duly  considered  the  state  in 
which  we  are  now  placed.  Pray  reflect  upon  it  well,  and 
then  tell  me  whether  you  can  think  of  being  a week  toge- 
gether  absent  from  your  trust  in  parliament,  till  you  see 
the  main  point  settled,  and  the  kingdom  in  a posture  of 
defence  against  the  ruin  that  threatens  it.  The  reason 
why  I pressed  you  to  stay  in  the  town  was  to  give  the 
world  a testimony  how  much  you  preferred  the  public  to 
your  private  interest,  and  how  true  you  were  to  any  trust 
you  undertook.  This  is  no  small  character,  nor  of  small 
advantage  to  a man  coming  into  the  world.  Besides,  I 
thought  it  no  good  husbandry  for  a man  to  get  a few  fees 
on  circuit  and  lose  Westminster  Hall.  For,  I assure  you, 
Westminster  Hall  is  at  stake,  and  I wonder  how  any  one 
of  the  house  can  sleep  till  he  sees  England  in  a better 
state  of  defence,  and  how  he  can  talk  of  anything  else  till 
that  is  done.” 2 

Locke  did  not  of  course  know,  while  writing  that  letter, 
that  King  William  was  dying,  hut  it  is  somewhat  strange 
that  in  his  later  correspondence  we  find  no  reference  to 
the  mischance  that  placed  Anne  on  the  throne,  and  enabled 
the  tories  to  secure  the  political  supremacy  for  which, 
all  through  William’s  reign,  they  had  been  desperately 
struggling.  Though  losing  none  of  the  patriotism  that 
had  led  him  to  take  a large  and  eager  share  in  the  ante- 
cedents and  early  incidents  of  the  king’s  reign  there  had 

1 Lord  King,  p.  257 ; Locke  to  King,  27  Feb.,  1701-2. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  256;  Locke  to  King,  8 March  [1701-21. 


504 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


probably  been  mucb  abatement  of  his  loyalty  to  William 
himself,  and  just  now  he  could  tolerate  the  tories,  as  they 
were  more  zealous  than  the  whigs  in  the  business  that  he 
had  especially  at  heart  at  this  time,  the  vigorous  prosecu- 
tion of  the  war  against  France  and  her  allies. 

There  is  very  little  recorded  about  Locke’s  occupations 
during  the  winter  of  1701-2  and  the  ensuing  summer 
and  autumn,  though  it  is  probable  that  the  opportunities 
afforded  by  his  improved  health  were  chiefly  used  in  pro- 
secution of  his  biblical  studies.  After  the  letters  that 
have  just  been  quoted,  there  is,  with  the  exception  of  two 
letters  that  he  wrote  to  Limborch,  a gap  in  his  corre- 
spondence extending  over  more  than  half  a year. 

In  April,  he  received  a letter  from  Limborch,  reporting 
that  he  was  ill.  “I  reply  to  it,”  he  wrote  back,  “ with 
as  little  delay  as  possible  ; for  nothing  is  more  precious 
to  me  than  your  health.  Weakness  of  the  pulse  often 
occurs  without  being  followed  by  anything  more  serious, 
or  requiring  any  remedy.  I have  found  this  more  than 
once  in  myself.  Nevertheless,  I consider  that  the  symp- 
toms you  describe  ought  not  to  be  neglected,  especially  at 
this  time  of  the  year,  which  is  especially  dangerous  in 
cases  of  apoplexy.  Whatever  threatens  your  health  I 
always  ascribe  to  that  fulness  of  blood  to  which  you  are 
naturally  disposed  and  which  ought  in  every  way  possi- 
ble to  be  guarded  against,  and  I again  advise  you  to 
resort  to  blood-letting.  But  whether  you  adopt  this 
course  or  not,  I am  sure  you  will  do  well  in  rigidly 
abstaining  from  the  use  of  wine  and  every  other  kind  of 
fermented  liquor.  Use  barley-water  or  some  similar 
beverage  instead,  and  eat  very  little  flesh  or  savoury 
dishes  of  any  sort.  Be  content  with  herbs  and  vegetables, 
oatmeal  and  bread.  This  diet  will  strengthen  your  con- 


MEDICAL  ADVICE  TO  LIMBORCH. 


505 


1702.  I 
Mt.  69. J 

stitution  and  bring  back  the  freshness  of  youth  to  yonr 
veins.”  1 

Limborch  seems  to  have  followed  this  advice.  “ The 
account  you  give  of  your  tolerably  restored  health,” 
Locke  wrote  five  months  later,  “greatly  delights  me, 
and  I am  very  glad  that  the  palpitation  of  the  heart  is  no 
longer  troublesome.  You  take  such  good  and  prudent 
care  of  your  health  that  I hope  you  will  long  be  saved 
from  that  and  every  other  malady,  especially  if,  in  addi- 
tion to  your  abstemiousness,  you  resort  to  blood-letting 
whenever  you  feel  or  fear  any  return  of  the  symptoms  of 
apoplexy.”2  “ You  load  me  with  kindnesses,”  Limborch 
replied,  “which  I can  never  forget,  I am  now,  thank  God, 
quite  well.  About  seven  weeks  ago  I had  a troublesome 
fulness  of  body,  accompanied  by  severe  palpitation  of  the 
heart ; but  I resorted  to  blood-letting,  and  now  all  the 
unpleasant  symptoms  have  passed  away.”  3 Locke’s  ques- 
tionable expedient  appears  to  have  succeeded  in  this  case. 

Locke  was  ill  in  his  turn,  and  in  the  autumn  of  1702  he 
felt  that  he  had  nearly  done  with  the  world.  For  some 
time  past  he  had  been  so  deaf  that  he  could  hardly  take 
part  in  any  conversation,  and  he  said  in  a letter  to  a friend 
that  he  thought  it  would  be  almost  better  to  be  blind  than 
to  be  deaf.4  “'I  am  too  far  out  of  the  way,  which  I am 
not  sorry  for,”  he  wrote  to  Benjamin  Furly  in  October,  in 
playful  reference  to  his  new  ailment,  “ to  hear  anything 
that  does  not  make  a noise,  and,  whether  it  be  society  or 
dull  old  age  or  anything  else,  I have  not  curiosity  to  be 
prying  or  to  acquaint  myself  with  the  bias  or  bent  of 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  20  April,  1702. 

2 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  528  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  28  Sept.,  1702. 

3 Ibid.,  p.  530;  Limborch  to  Locke,  [16 — ] 27  Oct.,  1702. 

4 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge  de  M.  Locke.' 


506 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


affairs.”  He  was  grieved  tliat  Furly  had  not  paid  an 
intended  visit  to  England.  “ I promised  myself  much 
satisfaction  in  your  company  here  this  summer,”  he  said, 
“ and  it  hath  been  a great  disappointment  to  miss  it. 
Besides  the  joy  it  would  have  been  to  me  to  see  you 
again,  I fancy  we  could  have  passed  some  days  together 
not  unpleasantly,  though  news  and  politics  had  been  ex- 
cluded from  our  conversation.  I think  myself  upon  the 
brink  of  another  world,  and,  being  ready  to  leave  those 
shufflings  which  have  generally  too  broad  a mixture  of 
folly  and  corruption,  should  not  despair  with  you  to  find 
matters  more  suited  to  the  thoughts  of  rational  creatures 
to  entertain  us.  Do  not  think  now  I am  grown  either  a 
stoic  or  a mystic.  I can  laugh  as  heartily  as  ever,  and  be 
in  pain  for  the  public  as  much  as  you.  I am  not  grown 
into  a sullenness  that  puts  off  humanity — no,  nor  mirth 
either.  Come  and  try.  But  I have  laid  by  the  simplicity 
of  troubling  my  head  about  things  that  I cannot  give  the 
least  head  to  one  way  or  the  other.  I rather  choose  to 
employ  my  thoughts  about  something  that  may  better 
myself,  and  perhaps  some  few  other  such  simple  fellows 
as  I am.  You  may  easily  conclude  this  written  in  a 
chimney  corner,  in  some  obscure  hole  out  of  the  way  of 
the  lazy  men  of  this  world  and  I think  not  the  worse  for 
being  so,  and  I pray  heartily  it  may  continue  so  long  as  I 
live.  I live  in  fear  of  the  bustlers,  and  would  not  have 
them  come  near  me.  Such  quiet  fellows  as  you  are,  that 
come  without  drum  and  trumpet,  with  whom  we  can  talk 
upon  equal  terms  and  receive  some  benefit  by  their  com- 
pany, I should  be  glad  to  have  in  my  neighbourhood,  or 
to  see  sometimes,  though  they  came  from  the  other  side 
of  the  water.”  “ I have  of  late  so  great  a pain  in  my  arm 
when  I write,”  he  added,  after  some  further  gossip,  “ that 


1702.  T 
■®t.  70. J 


A LETTER  TO  BENJAMIN  FURLY. 


507 


I am  fain  to  leave  off.  But  ’tis  not  strange  tliat  my  frail 
temperament  has  decays  in  it.  ’Tis  rather  to  he  wondered 
at  that  it  hath  lasted  so  long.”  Sending  messages  to 
various  friends  and  acquaintances  in  Holland,  he  said, 
“ Pray  give  my  service  particularly  to  Monsieur  Bayle  ” — 
the  great  critic  of  Botterdam  and  Europe — “ when  he 
comes  in  your  way.  However  I value  his  opinion  in  the 
first  rank  of  those  who  have  got  my  book,  yet  will  he  not 
do  me  the  favour  to  let  me  know  what  he  thinks  of  it, 
one  way  or  other.”  1 

That  letter  was  enclosed  in  one  to  Furly’s  son  Benjo- 
han,  still  in  the  London  merchant’s  office,  whom  Locke 
invited  to  pay  another  visit  to  Oates.2  Benjohan’s 
younger  brother  Arent  was  now  also  in  England,  and  had 
lately  passed  some  time  with  the  family  at  Oates.3  He 
was  Locke’s  especial  favourite,  and,  through  his  help,  was 
about  to  obtain  an  appointment  that  was  expected  to  he  of 
great  service  to  him.  More  than  four  years  before,  Locke 
had  congratulated  Furly  on  “the  promising  estate”  of 
his  children.  “ I count  it  the  great  comfort  of  a father,” 
he  had  said,  “ which  I am  glad  you  have  in  all  your  sons, 
to  a degree  not  common  in  any  age,  and  very  rare  in  this. 
May  you  live  long  in  prosperity  to  enjoy  it  with  general 
satisfaction.  My  little  friend” — Arent — “I  find,  de- 
ceives not  my  expectation.  I pretend  not,  you  know,  to 
prophecy ; but  ever  since  I first  knew  that  child  I could 
not  forbear  thinking  that  he  would  go  a great  way  in  any- 

1 * Original  Letters,’  p.  132  ; Locke  to  Furly,  12  Oct.,  1702. 

2 Ibid. , p.  136  ; Locke  to  Benjohan  Furly,  12  Oct.,  1702. 

3 In  a note  to  her  transcript  of  one  of  Arent  Furly’s  letters  to  her,  Esther 
Masliam  said  he  “ was  sent  over  to  England  to  learn  English,  was  at  Oates 
for  some  time,  and  afterwards  boarded  in  the  neighbourhood.” — Letters 
from  Friends  and  Relations,  p.  265. 


508 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


thing  lie  should  be  set  to ; and  would  not  make  a mean 
figure  in  the  world.  Pray  remember  me  very  kindly  to 
him,  and  tell  him  that  I am  very  glad  to  hear  so  well  of 
him,  for  I love  him  exceedingly.”1 

Locke’s  friend  of  fifteen  years’  standing,  the  Earl  of 
Monmouth,  now  Earl  of  Peterborough  as  well,  and  known 
by  that  higher  title,  after  a long  period  of  political  work 
and  political  idleness,  was  about  to  be  employed  in  his  old 
profession  and  to  take  an  important  part  in  the  war  with 
Spain,  and,  as  he  was  anxious  to  have  a secretary  ac- 
quainted with  foreign  languages,  it  was  proposed  that  the 
post  should  be  given  to  a member  of  Furly’s  family.  “ It 
is  better,”  wrote  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  to  Eurly,  “ that 
this  favour  should  be  for  Mr.  Arent,  since,  being  your  own 
son — a kind  of  foster-child,  too,  to  Mr.  Locke,  my  lord’s 
great  friend — he  can  enjoy  the  fruits  of  your  recommend- 
ation and  carry  the  force  of  your  own  and  friend’s  interest 
with  my  lord  much  better  than  a stranger  can  do.”2 
Arent  received  the  appointment,  and  acquitted  himself 
well  in  it ; but  he  died  in  1705. 

The  Earl  of  Peterborough  was  to  take  charge  of  the 
English  and  Dutch  fleet  collected  to  carry  on  by  sea  the 
warfare  against  Spain,  and  in  the  first  instance  to  attack 
her  West  Indian  possessions  ; and,  expecting  to  embark  in 
November  or  December,  he  sent  word  to  Locke  that  he 
should  like  to  see  him  before  entering  upon  work  from 
which  he  might  never  return.  “Had  not  my  health 
with  strong  hand  held  me  back  from  such  a journey  at 

1 ‘ Original  Letters,’  p.  63 ; Locke  to  Furly,  28  April,  1698. 

2 Shaftesbury  Papers,  series  v. , no.  66  ; Third  Lord  Shaftesbury  to  Furly, 
Nov.,  1702.  It  would  seem  that  Furly,  as  a compliment  to  Shaftesbury,  had 
suggested  that  the  appointment  should  be  given  to  Henry  Wilkinson,  a 
protege  of  Shaftesbury’s,  now  in  the  Rotterdam  merchant’s  office. 


2Et.°70.]  the  eael  of  peteeboeough.  509 

this  time  of  the  year,  especially  to  London,”  Locke  wrote 
to  Peter  King,  “I  had  certainly,  upon  reading  my  Lord 
Peterborough’s  message  to  me  in  your  letter,  obeyed  my 
inch  nation  and  come  to  kiss  his  hands  before  he  went 
nor  could  the  considerations  of  my  health  have  hindered 
me,  nor  the  remonstrances  of  my  friends  here  against  it, 
if  I could  have  seen  anything  wherein  I could  by  waiting 
upon  him  have  done  any  service  to  his  lordship.  As  it  is, 
there  is  nothing  I have  borne  so  uneasily  from  the  decays 
of  age,  my  troublesome  ear,  my  breathless  lungs,  and  my 
being  unable  to  stir,  as  the  being  stopped  paying  my 
respects  in  person,  upon  his  going  upon  such  an  expedi- 
tion ; and  yet  I know  not  what  I could  do,  were  I now  in 
London,  but  intrude  myself  unseasonably  amidst  a crowd 
of  business,  and  rob  him  uselessly  of  some  of  his  time  at 
a season  when  he  cannot,  I know,  have  a minute  to  spare. 
But  when  I have  said  and  resolved  all  this,  I find  myself 
dissatisfied  in  not  seeing  of  him ; and  ’tis  a displeasure 
will  rest  upon  my  mind  and  add  weight  to  that  of  those 
infirmities  that  caused  it.  If  I could  hope  that  in  this 
my  state  of  confinement  and  impotency  there  was  any- 
thing remained  that  might  be  useful  to  his  lordship,  that 
would  be  some  comfort  and  relief  to  me.  And  if  he  would 
let  me  know  wherein  I might  be  any  way  serviceable  to 
him  in  his  absence,  it  would  make  me  put  some  value 
upon  the  little  remainder  of  my  life.  And,  dear  cousin, 
if  you  could,  before  my  lord  goes,  find  an  opportunity  to 
wait  upon  him,  and  say  something  to  him  from  me  to 
the  purport  above  written,  you  would  do  me  a singular 
kindness.”  1 

As  Locke  could  not  go  up  to  London  to  see  the  earl, 
the  earl,  with  his  wife — the  lady  whom  Locke  had  escorted 
1 Lord  King,  p.  258 ; Locke  to  King,  4 Nov.,  1702. 


510 


LAST  YEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


from  Holland  thirteen  years  before,  and  who  always  had  a 
bedroom  ready  for  Locke  at  Parson’s  Green,  and,  at  any 
rate,  a hearty  welcome  for  him  at  their  town  house  in  Bow 
Street,  Covent  Garden — came  down  to  Oates  to  see  Locke 
about  the  middle  of  November.  “ If,”  Locke  wrote  after- 
wards to  his  cousin,  “ you  had  come  (as  it  seems  you  talked) 
with  my  Lord  Peterborough,  you  had  saved  him  the  going 
several  miles  out  of  the  way,  and  I had  seen  you ; but  you 
had  business,  and  I wonder  not  at  it.  I must  trouble  you 
once  more  to  wait  upon  my  Lord  or  Lady  Peterborough 
in  my  name,  with  the  return  of  my  humble  service  and 
thanks  for  the  honour  they  have  done  me,  and  my  inquiries 
how  they  do  after  their  journey.  I hope  you  will  have  an 
opportunity  of  going  so  far  as  Bow  Street  to-morrow,  that 
I may  hear  from  you  how  they  do.  I was  much  in  pain 
about  their  getting  to  town  now  the  days  are  so  short. 
Tour  letter,  saying  nothing  of  them,  makes  me  presume 
they  got  safe  : it  would  else  have  made  a noise.  Pray  in 
your  letter  write  whether  my  Lord  Marlborough  be  yet 
come  or  no.  I beg  your  pardon  for  this  trouble,  and  excuse 
it  this  once  more.”  1 Locke  certainly  wrote  very  cour- 
teously to  the  cousin  whom  he  was  raising  from  the 
position  of  a grocer’s  son  in  Exeter  to  that  of  lord  high 
chancellor  of  England. 

Some  five  weeks  after  his  return  from  Oates,  Peterborough 
wrote  this  characteristic  letter  to  Locke  : — 

“ Sir, — The  lady  that  made  you  a visit  with  me  would  not  let  me  write 
till  I could  tell  you  all  is  gone  afore  and  that  the  first  easterly  wind  we  follow. 
I wish  we  were  as  sure  of  success  as  we  are  of  your  good  wishes ; and  I 
assure  you,  sir,  I have  some  pretence  to  that  from  the  very  sincere  respect 
and  inclination  I have  ever  had  for  you.  Our  Yigo  success  has  a little  abated 
our  vigour,  a fault  too  often  committed  by  the  English,  and  we  seem  not  sc 


1 Lord  King,  p.  258;  Locke  to  King,  28  Nov.,  1702. 


1702-3.1 
2Et.  70. J 


THE  EAEL  OF  PETEEBOEOUGH. 


511 


willing  as  the  Dutch  to  raise  new  recruits  for  the  next  campaign.  I confess, 
after  the  schoolboy  fashion,  I am  for  giving  the  enemy  the  rising  blow  when 
they  are  down.  And  I hope  to  convince  you  in  the  West  Indies  that,  if 
Providence  give  us  successes,  we  will  not  sleep  upon  them.  Sir,  if  I make  a 
prosperous  voyage  and  live  to  come  back  again,  I shall  not  have  a greater 
pleasure  than  to  meet  you  where  we  parted  last.  Your  most  affectionate 
friend  and  servant,  Peterborough. 

“ The  gentleman  you  recommended  from  my  Lady  Calverley,  went  this 
night  aboard.”  1 2 

But  the  earl  did  not  start  as  soon  as  he  expected,  and  a 
month  afterwards  he  wrote  the  following  equally  character- 
istic letter,  which  is  also  of  some  interest  as  illustrating 
the  methods  of  Queen  Anne’s  government : — 

“ Had  I not,  with  Mr.  Locke,  left  off  wondering  at  anything  long  ago,  I 
might  with  surprise  write  this  letter,  and  you  receive  it  with  amazement, 
when  I let  you  know  our  American  expedition  is  fallen,  as  a mushroom  rises 
in  the  night.  I had  my  orders  to  be  aboard  the  16th  ; all  my  equipage  and 
servants  gone  ; and  the  14th  I was  sent  for  to  the  place  of  wisdom  to  be 
asked  this  question,  w'hether  1 could  not  effect  with  three  thousand  men 
what  I was  to  have  attempted  with  above  double  the  number  ? I modestly 
confessed  myself  no  worker  of  miracles  ; and  being  told  that  the  States  had 
desired  the  Dutch  squadron  and  land-forces  might  be  employed  upon  other 
services,  since  the  season  was  so  far  spent,  and  the  wind  contrary,  I likewise 
desired  they  would  excuse  my  going  if  the  season  were  passed,  when  I was 
sure  the  force  would  not  answer  what  the  world  expected  from  her  majesty’s 
arms  and  preparations  so  long  talked  of : besides,  these  three  thousand  men 
I was  to  depend  upon  were  but  two  thousand  eight  hundred  when  they  left 
Calais,  and  before  my  arrival  must  have  been  employed  for  four  months 
against  the  French  in  their  strongest  islands,  and  probably  reduced  to  half 
the  number,  at  least,  by  disease  and  the  accidents  of  war,  I am  sure  this 
does  not  surprise  you,  that  I refused  to  go  to  the  other  world  loaded  with 
empty  titles,  and  deprived  of  force.  These  mysteries  of  state  I will  not 
pretend  to  unfold  at  present,  hut  before  I return  to  my  home  I will  have 
another  meeting  in  Essex.  Your  most  faithful  friend, 

“ Peterborough.”  a 


1 Lord  King,  p.  239  ; Peterborough  to  Locke,  26  Dec.,  1702. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  240  ; Peterborough  to  Locke,  27  Jan.,  1702-8. 


512 


LAST  YEAKS. 


[Chap.  XV 


The  Earl  of  Peterborough,  however,  was  not  allowed  to 
retire,  and  he  embarked  for  the  West  Indies  in  the  spring ; 
though  his  greatest  successes  were  not  achieved  until  1705, 
when,  exchanging  naval  work  for  service  as  commander  of 
the  English  land  forces  in  Spain,  he  desolated  half  the 
peninsula.  We  have  seen  the  last  of  his  connection  with 
Locke. 

A few  days  after  his  visit  to  Oates  in  November,  1702, 
Locke  wrote  this  letter  to  his  older  friend,  Edward  Clarke, 
of  whom  we  have  lost  sight  for  nearly  two  years. 

“ Dear  Sir, — I was  very  glad  to  see  your  hand  some  time  since  upon  a 
cover  which  brought  me  a letter  from  my  wife  ; and  I have  since  that  been 
mightily  rejoiced  to  hear  that  you  are  returned  to  town  in  very  good  health. 
I do  not  expect  that  the  place  you  are  in,  or  the  affairs  you  there  meet  with, 
should  much  increase  it ; but  yet  I hope  you  will  take  care  that  it  shall  not 
sink  it. 

“ There  will  be,  I doubt  not,  holidays  of  some  kind  or  other  for  you  at 
Christmas  ; and  then  what  should  hinder  you  to  take  a little  air  ? A few 
days  spent  here  then,  I think,  would  do  you  no  harm  and,  I am  sure,  would 
oblige  more  than  one  here.  Do  not  blame  if  I desire  to  be  happy  once  more 
in  your  company.  I have  been  little  better  than  out  of  the  world  these  twelve 
months,  by  a deafness  that  in  great  measure  shut  me  out  of  conversation. 
I thank  God,  my  hearing  is  now  restored  again,  and  it  is  in  your  power  to 
make  me  yet  more  sensible  of  that  blessing.  It  would  be  folly  in  me  to  count 
upon  another  Christmas.  Come,  then,  and  let  me  enjoy  you  this.  My  lady, 
who  gives  you  her  service,  joins  with  me  in  this  request,  and  says  that  in 
this  uncertain  world  she  knows  nothing  so  desirable  as  the  conversation  of 
friends  ; and  therefore  she  and  I are  not  to  be  blamed  if  we  take  care  to 
secure  yours  early,  that  nothing  may  rob  us  of  our  hopes. 

“ I was  gone  thus  far  when  I received  my  Lady  Calverley’s,  under  your 
cover.  I am  very  sorry  to  find  her  under  those  circumstances  of  health  she 
mentions.  Dear  sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

“J.  Locke.”1 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290  ; Locke  to  Clarke,  30  Nov.,  1702.  A long 
and  amusing  letter  from  Locke  to  the  Lady  Calverley  referred  to  above, 
undated,  but  apparently  written  between  1696  and  1698,  is  printed  in  ‘ A 
Collection  of  Several  Pieces  by  Mr.  Locke  ’ (1720),  p.  266. 


™2$]  EDWARD  CLARKE  AND  PETER  KING.  513 

Clarke  can  hardly  have  refused  that  invitation.  But, 
save  only  in  Locke’s  mention  of  them  in  his  will,  we  have 
also  seen  the  last  of  him,  and  of  his  daughter  Betty. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  we  have  none  of  the  many  letters 
that  passed  between  Locke  and  his  little  “ wife,”  now  no 
longer  little,  hut  perhaps  as  tall  as  her  “ husband,”  a 
buxom  damsel,  nearly,  if  not  quite,  out  of  her  teens,  and 
ready  to  meet  with  a real  husband,  but  not  able  to  find 
one  a tithe  as  good  and  kind  as  him  who  had  wedded  her 
in  joke  a dozen  years  before  and  had  ever  since  been  as 
loyal  to  her  as  she  was  to  him. 

Locke  was  probably  cheered  at  Christmas  time  by  the 
company  of  another  visitor,  Peter  King ; hut  he  was  dis- 
appointed that  his  cousin  could  not  spend  part  of  the 
following  spring  with  him.  “I  told  you  that  the  term 
had  got  you,”  he  wrote,  “ nor  am  I dissatisfied  that  you 
mind  your  business  ; but  I do  not  well  bear  it  that  you 
speak  so  doubtfully  of  making  yourself  and  me  a holiday 
at  Whitsuntide.  I do  not  count  upon  much  time  in  this 
world,  and  therefore  you  will  not  blame  me,  if  you  think 
right  of  me,  for  desiring  to  see  and  enjoy  you  as  much  as 
I can  and  having  your  company  as  much  as  your  business 
will  permit.  Besides  that,  I think  some  intervals  of  ease 
and  air  are  necessary  for  you.”  1 

That  letter,  answered  by  a promise  from  King  that  he 
would  come  down  at  Whitsuntide,  was  followed  by  a 
longer  one,  which  may  be  quoted  in  full,  as  it  reminds  us 
of  another  of  Locke’s  friends,  and  tells  us  something 
about  his  commentaries  on  the  epistles  of  St.  Paul,  and 
something  about  his  own  state  of  mind  and  body. 

“ Deab  Cousin, — I am  puzzled  in  a little  affair,  and  must  beg  your  assist 

1 Lord  Eng,  p.  260 ; Locke  to  Eng,  23  April,  1703. 

Vol.  II. — 33 


514 


LAST  YEARS. 


rCBAr.  XV. 


ance  for  the  clearing  of  it.  Mr.  Newton,  in  autumn  last,  made  me  a visit 
here  ; I showed  him  my  essay  upon  ‘ The  Corinthians,’  with  which  he  seemed 
very  well  pleased,  but  had  not  time  to  look  it  all  over,  but  promised  me  if 
I would  send  it  him,  he  would  carefully  peruse  it,  and  send  me  his  obser- 
vations and  opinion.  I sent  it  him  before  Christmas,  but,  hearing  nothing 
from  him,  I,  about  a month  or  six  weeks  since,  writ  to  him,  as  the  enclosed 
tells  you,  with  the  remaining  part  of  the  story.  When  you  have  read  it, 
and  sealed  it,  I desire  you  to  deliver  it  at  your  convenience.  He  lives  in 
Jermyn  Street.  You  must  not  go  on  a Wednesday,  for  that  is  his  day  for 
being  at  the  Tower. 

“ The  reason  why  I desire  you  to  deliver  it  to  him  yourself  is,  that  I 
would  fain  discover  the  reason  of  his  so  long  silence.  I have  several 
•easons  to  think  him  truly  my  friend,  but  he  is  a nice  man  to  deal  with, 
and  a little  too  apt  to  raise  in  himself  suspicions  where  there  is  no  ground. 
Therefore,  when  you  talk  to  him  of  my  papers,  and  of  his  opinion  of  them, 
pray  do  it  with  all  the  tenderness  in  the  world,  and  discover,  if  you  can, 
why  he  kept  them  so  long  and  was  so  silent.  But  this  you  must  do  without 
asking  why  he  did  so,  or  discovering  in  the  least  that  you  are  desirous  to 
know.  You  will  do  well  to  acquaint  him  that  you  intend  to  see  me  at 
Whitsuntide,  and  shall  be  glad  to  bring  a letter  to  me  from  him,  or  anything 
else  he  will  please  to  send ; this  perhaps  may  quicken  him,  and  make  him 
despatch  these  papers,  if  he  has  not  done  it  already.  It  may  a little  let 
you  into  the  freer  discourse  with  him,  if  you  let  him  know  that  when  you 
have  been  here  with  me,  you  have  seen  me  busy  on  them  (and  ‘ The  Romans’ 
too,  if  he  mentions  them,  for  I told  him  I was  upon  them  when  he  was 
here),  and  have  had  a sight  of  some  part  of  what  1 was  doing.  Mr.  Newton 
is  really  a very  valuable  man,  not  only  for  his  wonderful  skill  in  mathematics, 
but  in  divinity  too,  and  his  great  knowledge  in  the  scriptures,  wherein  I 
know  few  his  equals.  And  therefore  pray  manage  the  whole  matter  so  as 
not  only  to  preserve  me  in  his  good  opinion,  but  to  increase  me  in  it ; and 
be  sure  to  press  him  to  nothing,  but  what  he  is  forward  in  himself  to  do. 

“In  your  last  you  seemed  desirous  of  my  coming  to  town.  I have  many 
reasons  to  desire  to  be  there,  but  I doubt  whether  ever  I shall  see  it  again. 
Take  not  this  for  a splenetic  thought.  I thank  God  I have  no  melancholy 
on  that  account,  but  I cannot  but  feel  what  I feel.  My  shortness  of  breath 
is  so  far  from  being  relieved  by  the  renewing  season  of  the  year,  as  it  used 
to  be,  that  it  sensibly  increases  upon  me.  'Twas  not  therefore  in  a fit  ox 
dispiritedness,  or  to  prevail  with  you  to  let  me  see  you,  that  in  my  former 
I mentioned  the  shortness  of  the  time  I thought  I had  in  this  world. 


A MESSAGE  TO  NEWTON. 


515 


1703.  "I 
Jit.  70.  J 

spoke  it  then  and  repeat  it  now  upon  sober  and  sedate  consideration.  I 
have  several  things  to  talk  to  you  of,  and  some  of  present  concernment  to 
yourself,  and  I know  not  whether  this  may  not  be  my  last  time  of  seeing 
you.  I shall  not  die  the  sooner  for  having  cast  up  my  reckoning,  and 
judging  as  impartially  of  my  state  as  I can.  I hope  I shall  not  live  one  jot 
the  less  cheerfully  the  time  that  I am  here,  nor  neglect  any  of  the  offices  of 
life  whilst  I have  it ; for  whether  it  be  a month  or  a year  or  seven  years 
longer,  the  longest  any  one  out  of  kindness  or  compliment  can  propose  to 
me  is  so  near  nothing  when  considered,  and  in  respect  of  eternity,  that,  if 
the  sight  of  death  can  put  an  end  to  the  comforts  of  life,  it  is  always  near 
enough,  especially  to  one  of  my  age,  to  leave  no  satisfaction  in  living. 

“I  am  your  affectionate  cousin  and  humble  servant, 

“ J.  L.”  1 

Locke’s  message  to  Newton  produced  a long  letter  from 
him,  criticising  one  passage  in  tire  ‘Paraphrase  and  Notes 
on  the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,’  but  saying,  “ I 
think  your  paraphrase  and  commentary  on  these  two 
epistles  is  done  with  very  great  care  and  judgment.”  “ I 
had.  thoughts  of  going  to  Cambridge  this  summer  and 
calling  at  Oates  in  my  way,  hut  am  now  uncertain  of  this 
journey.” 2 

We  have  seen  how,  long  ago,  Locke  had  taken  part  in 
more  than  one  matrimonial  arrangement.  A curious  letter 
that  he  wrote  to  Peter  King  in  March,  1701-2,  cannot 
be  explained  in  its  details,  but  its  general  purport  is  quite 
intelligible. 

“ Dear  Cousin, — In  compliance  with  yours  of  yesterday,  I write  this 
evening  with  intention  to  send  my  letter  to  Harlow  to-morrow  morning, 
that  Mr.  Harrison  may,  if  possible,  find  some  way  of  conveyance  of  it  to 
you  before  to-morrow  night. 

“The  family  and  other  circumstances  have  no  exception,  and  the  person 
I have  heard  commended  ; but  yet  the  objection  made  is  considerable.  I 
think  the  young  gentleman  concerned  ought  to  manage  it  so  as  to  be  well 


1 Lord  King,  p.  259 ; Locke  to  King,  30  April,  1703. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  223  ; Newton  to  Locke,  15  May,  1703. 


516 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


satisfied  whether  that  be  what  he  can  well  bear  and  will  consist  with  the 
comfort  and  satisfaction  he  proposes  to  himself  in  that  state  before  he  seems 
to  hearken  to  any  such  proposal,  so  that  he  may  avoid  what  he  cannot 
consent  to  without  any  appearance  of  a refusal.  For  to  make  a visit  upon 
such  proposal,  though  it  be  designed  without  any  consequence,  and  offered 
to  be  contrived  as  of  chance,  is  yet  a sort  of  address ; and  then  going  no 
further,  whatever  is  said  will  be  ill  taken  of  her  friends,  and  consequently 
the  whole  family  be  disobliged,  which  will  have  ill  consequences,  and  there- 
fore should  be  avoided  ; for,  whatever  reason  a man  may  have  to  refuse  a 
woman  that  is  offered  him,  it  must  never  be  known  that  it  was  anything 
in  her  person.  Such  a discovery  makes  a mortal  quarrel.  If  he  that  pro- 
posed it  be  the  confidant  of  the  young  gentleman,  and  can  be  relied  on  by 
him,  and  has  said  nothing  of  it  to  her  friends,  he  possibly  may  contrive  an 
unsuspected  interview,  and  is  the  fittest  person  to  do  it ; if  not,  the  young 
man  must  find  some  other  way  to  satisfy  himself  that  may  not  be  discovered. 
A friend  of  mine  in  Jermyn  Street,  who  missed  you  narrowly  when  you 
came  last  from  Exeter,  knows  her  well ; but  an  inquiry  there  must  be 
managed  with  great  dexterity  to  avoid  suspicion  of  the  matter,  and  conse- 
quently talking  of  it. 

“You  shall  be  sure  to  hear  from  me  in  the  matter  before  you  go  out  of 
town,  if  you  persist  in  the  mind  of  going. 

“ I am  your  most  affectionate  cousin  and  humble  servant, 

“ John  Locke.”  1 

It  is  not  certain  that  King  himself  was  the  young  gen- 
tleman so  cautiously  referred  to  in  this  cautious  scheme 
of  match-making ; but  some  time  after  the  date  of  that 
letter  he  began  to  think  of  marrying,  the  young  lady 
on  whom  he  had  set  his  heart  being  Anne,  the  daughter 
of  Richard  Seyes,  a Glamorganshire  gentleman,  and  he 
consulted  his  cousin  as  to  his  project.  “ I thank  you  for 
your  last  letter  and  the  several  kind  hints  in  it,”  he  wrote 
in  June,  1703.  “ I believe  the  aunt  will  not  come  under 
any  legal  obligation  for  futurity,  but  she  promiseth  well. 
As  to  the  young  lady,  she  hath  wit  and  sense,  and  will,  I 
believe,  be  very  easy  in  all  those  things  you  mention.”2 

1 Lord  King,  p.  252  ; Locke  to  Xing,  1 March,  1701-2. 

2 Lord  Campbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  559;  King  to  Locke,  13  June,  1703. 


1703.  T 

JSt.  70.  J 


ANTHONY  COLLINS. 


517 


The  marriage  did  not  take  place  until  late  in  the  summer 
of  1704. 

Though  Locke  never  chose  a wife  for  himself,  and 
adopted  very  business-like  views  in  discussing  the  marriage 
projects  of  his  friends,  he  showed  a lover’s  temperament, 
all  through  his  life,  in  his  honourable  relations  with  both 
men  and  women.  We  have  traced  his  early  intimacy 
with  Thoynard  and  Limborch,  and  have  followed  his 
friendship  with  Molyneux  from  its  beginning  to  its  end. 
Thoynard  was  far  away,  and,  though  they  were  good 
friends  still,  much  of  the  old  warmth  of  affection  had 
evidently  died  out  during  their  long  separation.  From 
Limborch  he  had  also  been  parted  so  long  that,  though 
there  was  no  abatement  in  their  esteem,  they  were  now 
only  trustful  and  devoted  friends.  And  Molyneux,  dying  in 
1698,  had  left  a desolate  corner  in  Locke’s  heart.  It  was 
filled,  less  than  two  years  before  he  also  died,  by  a young 
man  worthy  of  all  the  tenderness  waiting  to  be  poured  out 
upon  him. 

Anthony  Collins,  born  in  1676,  must  have  been  a 
humble  disciple  of  Locke  some  years  before  his  master 
had  heard  of  him.  He  had  imbibed  all  Locke’s  views, 
perhaps  while  a student  at  Cambridge,  or  at  any  rate 
during  his  early  residence  in  London  or  at  his  country 
house  in  Essex,  and  he  did  little  more  than  build  upon 
those  views,  more  boldly  than  Locke  would  himself  have 
approved,  it  may  be,  in  his  numerous  essays  and  treatises, 
and  especially  in  £ A Discourse  of  Free  Thinking  ’ which 
he  published  in  1713,  and  in  £ A Discourse  of  the  Grounds 
and  Eeasons  of  the  Christian  Religion  ’ which  in  1724 
began  to  bring  upon  him  the  wrath  of  all  the  theologians, 
from  which  he  escaped  only  by  his  death  in  1729. 

If  their  acquaintance  was  of  much  longer  standing, 


518 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


their  friendship  seems  to  have  been  young  in  the  spring 
of  1703,  when  Locke  was  in  his  seventy-first  year  and 
Collins  in  his  twenty-seventh.1  Locke’s  first  letter,  or  the 
first  that  has  been  preserved,  was  written  on  the  4th  of 
May  and  referred  to  a visit  to  Oates  promised  by  Collins 
for  the  following  week.  “You  are  a charitable  good 
friend,”  he  here  said,  “ and  are  resolved  to  make  the 
decays  and  dregs  of  my  life  the  pleasantest  part  of  it ; for 
I know  nothing  calls  me  so  much  back  to  a pleasant  sense 
of  enjoyment,  and  makes  my  days  so  gay  and  lively,  as 
your  good  company.  Come,  then,  and  multiply  happy 
minutes  upon,  and  rejoice  here  in,  the  good  you  do  me.”2 
Hence  it  is  evident  that  Collins  had  paid  one  or  more 
visits  to  Locke  before  this  one,  though  of  them  we  have 
no  trace.  He  went  down  to  Oates  again  at  Whitsun- 
tide with  Peter  King.  “I  owe  you  my  thanks,”  Locke 
wrote  a few  days  after  his  return  to  town,  “ for  the 
greatest  favour  I can  receive,  the  confirmation  of  your 
friendship  by  the  visit  I lately  received  from  you.  If 
you  knew  what  satisfaction  I feel  spread  over  my  mind  by 
it,  you  would  take  this  acknowledgment  as  coming  from 
something  beyond  civility.  My  heart  goes  with  it,  and 
that  you  may  be  sure  of ; and  so  useless  a thing  as  I am 
have  nothing  else  to  offer  you.”3  After  that  Locke 
wrote  a great  many  letters  to  his  new  friend. 

1 It  is  possible  that  a “ Mr.  Collins,”  referred  to  in  a letter  or  cited  on 
p.  308  of  this  volume,  may  have  been  this  Anthony  Collins  ; but  I cannot 
trace  the  connection. 

2 ‘ A Collection  of  Several  Pieces  of  Mr.  John  Locke  ; published  by  Mr. 
DesMaizeaux,  under  the  direction  of  Anthony  Collins,  Esq.’  (1720),  p.  252; 
Locke  to  Collins,  4 May,  1703.  This  volume  contains  thirty-nine  of  Locke’s 
letters,  thirty-two  of  them  addressed  to  Collins.  Copies  of  the  latter  are  in 
the  British  Museum,  Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290. 

3 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  254 ; Locke  to  Collins,  3 June,  1703. 


it70?i.]  FRIENDSHIP  WITH  ANTHONY  COLLINS.  519 

The  letters  are  full,  almost  too  full,  of  assurances  of  his 
affection,  and  must  be  taken  with  some  allowance  for  the 
delight  felt  by  an  old  man  at  meeting  with  a young  one, 
who  was  bright,  clever,  transparently  honest  and  loyally 
devoted  to  his  master,  who  could  converse  ably  and  with 
hearty  sympathy  on  all  the  subjects  that  interested  him, 
who  was  eager  to  learn  from  him  and  eager  to  serve  him 
in  every  way.  Their  great  charm  is  in  showing  us  how 
fresh  and  buoyant  Locke’s  heart  was,  how  keen  was  his 
interest  in  everything  about  him,  whether  great  or  little, 
even  to  the  very  last,  how  calmly  and  contentedly  he 
was  ready  to  die  to-morrow,  if  death  came,  or  to  live 
on  for  many  years,  if  life  lasted.  They  inform  us,  too, 
about  many  little  circumstances  in  the  remaining  year 
and  a quarter  of  Locke’s  stay,  of  which  we  should  other- 
wise be  ignorant. 

Among  other  commissions  that  Collins  gladly  executed 
for  his  friend  was  the  buying  of  some  books  and  the 
binding  of  others.  At  one  time  Locke  wanted  Yossius’s 
‘ Etymologicum  Linguae  Latinae  ’ bound  in  a particular 
way,  in  order  that  it  might  match  with  others  on  his 
shelves  ; with  “ as  large  margins  as  the  paper  will  possibly 
afford,”  to  leave  room  for  notes,  if  he  lived  to  make  them.1 
At  another  he  asked  for  Barrow’s  ‘Works’  to  be  also 
bound.  “ I have  them  for  my  own  use  already  ; these  are 
to  give  away  to  a young  lady  here  in  the  country” — was 
that  Esther  Masham?  “When  they  are  bound,  I desire 
your  binder  would  pack  them  up  carefully,  and  cover 
them  with  paper  enough  to  keep  their  corners  and  edges 
from  being  hurt  in  the  carriage ; for  carriers  are  a sort 
of  brutes,  and  declared  enemies  to  books.” 2 “I  beg 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  254  ■ Locke  to  Collins,  3 June,  1703. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  257  ; Locke  to  Collins,  24  June,  1703. 


520 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


the  favour  of  you,”  he  wrote  some  time  later,  “to  get  me 
Mr.  Le  Clerc’s  ‘ Harmony  of  the  Evangelists,’  in  English, 
hound  very  finely  in  calf,  gilt  and  lettered  at  the  back, 
and  gilt  on  the  leaves . So  also  I would  have  Moliere’s 
works,  of  the  best  edition  you  can  get  them,  bound.  These 
books  are  for  ladies,  and  therefore  I would  have  them  fine, 
and  the  leaves  gilt  as  well  as  the  back.  Moliere,  of  the 
Paris  edition,  I think,  is  the  best,  if  it  can  be  got  in 
London  in  quires.”1  Le  Clerc  was  for  a Mrs.  Johnston,2 
Moliere  for  Lady  Peterborough, — “ which  I desire  you  to 
present  to  her  from  me,  with  the  enclosed  for  her,  and  my 
most  humble  service.” 3 

Samuel  Bolde,  Locke’s  champion  as  regards  both  1 The 
Reasonableness  of  Christianity  ’ and  the  ‘ Essay  concern- 
ing Human  Understanding,’  who  was  a friend  of  Collins’s, 
went  to  visit  Locke,  perhaps  not  for  the  first  time,  in  June, 
1703.  “ Mr.  Bolde,  who  leaves  us  to-day,”  Locke  wrote 

near  the  end  of  the  month,  “ intends  to  see  you ; and  I 
cannot  forbear  going  as  far  as  I can  ” — that  is,  by  letter  l: 
— “ to  make  the  third  in  the  company.  Would  my  health 
second  my  desires,  not  only  my  name  and  a few  words  | 
of  friendship  should  go  with  him  to  you,  but  I myself  i 
would  get  to  horse  ; and,  had  I nothing  else  to  do  in  [ 
town,  I should  think  it  worth  a longer  journey  than  it  is 
thither,  to  see  and  enjoy  you.  But  I must  submit  to  the 
restraints  of  old  age,  and  expect  that  happiness  from  your 
charity.  Why  do  you  make  yourself  so  necessary  to  me  ? 

I thought  myself  pretty  loose  from  the  world  ; hut  I feel 
you  begin  to  fasten  me  to  it  again.  For  you  make  my 
life,  since  I have  had  your  friendship,  much  more  valuable 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  278  ; Locke  to  Collins,  24  Jan.,  1703-4. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  293;  Locke  to  Collins,  13  March,  1703-4. 

* Ibid.,  p.  291 ; Locke  to  Collins,  6 March,  1703-4. 


iEtf 71. ] FRIENDSHIP  WITH  ANTHONY  COLLINS.  521 

to  me  than  it  was  before.”  1 “ Though  my  friendship  he 

of  very  little  value  or  use,”  he  said  in  his  next  letter, 
“ yet,  being  the  best  thing  I have  to  give,  I shall  not 
forwardly  bestow  it  where  I do  not  think  there  is  worth 
and  sincerity ; therefore,  pray  pardon  me  the  forwardness 
wherewith  I throw  my  arms  about  your  neck.”  2 

Collins  went  down  to  Oates  on  another  visit  in  October, 
and  afterwards  wrote  to  say  how  much  pleasure  it  had 
given  him.  “ Yon  say  a great  many  very  kind  things,” 
Locke  replied,  “ and  I believe  all  that  you  say.  Think 
that  I am  as  much  pleased  with  your  company,  as  much 
obliged  by  your  conversation,  as  you  are  by  mine,  and 
you  set  me  at  rest  and  I am  the  most  satisfied  man  in  the 
world.  You  complain  of  a great  many  defects  ; and  that 
very  complaint  is  the  highest  recommendation  I could 
desire  to  make  me  love  and  esteem  you  and  desire  your 
friendship.  If  I were  now  setting  out  in  the  world,  I 
should  think  it  my  great  happiness  to  have  such  a com- 
panion as  yon,  who  had  a relish  for  truth,  would  in  earnest 
seek  it  with  me,  from  whom  I might  receive  it  undis- 
guised, and  to  wdiom  I might  communicate  freely  what  I 
thought  true.  Believe  it,  my  good  friend,  to  love  truth 
for  truth’s  sake  is  the  principal  part  of  human  perfection 
in  this  world  and  the  - seed-plot  of  all  other  virtues,  and, 
if  I mistake  not,  you  have  as  much  of  it  as  I ever  met 
with  in  anybody.  When  I consider  how  much  of  my  life 
has  been  trifled  away  in  beaten  tracks,  where  I vamped 
on  with  others  only  to  follow  those  that  went  before  us, 
I cannot  but  think  I have  just  as  much  reason  to  be  proud 
as  if  I had  travelled  all  England,  and,  if  you  will,  France 
too,  only  to  acquaint  myself  with  the  roads  and  be  able 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  257  ; Locke  to  Collins,  24  June,  1708. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  259;  Locke  to  Collins,  9 July,  1703. 


522 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap  XV. 


to  tell  how  the  highways  lie,  wherein  those  of  equipage, 
and  even  the  herd  too,  travel.  Now,  methinks, — and 
these  are  often  old  men’s  dreams, — I see  openings  to 
truth  and  direct  paths  leading  to  it,  wherein  a little 
industry  and  application  would  settle  one’s  mind  with 
satisfaction,  and  leave  no  darkness  or  doubt.  But  this  is 
at  the  end  of  my  day,  when  my  sun  is  setting  ; and  though 
the  prospect  it  has  given  me  he  what  I would  not  for 
anything  he  without— there  is  so  much  irresistible  truth, 
beauty  and  consistency  in  it — yet  it  is  for  one  of  your 
age,  I think  I ought  to  say  for  yourself,  to  set  about  it.”1 

That  was  why  Locke  loved  this  young  man  so  much ; 
because  he  believed  that  he  would  take  in  hand  that 
poor  flickering  torch,  as  he  thought  it,  that  he  himself 
had  borrowed  from  those  before  him,  and  use  it  in  follow- 
ing the  quest  of  truth — not  loiter  merely  in  the  track  the 
he  had  beaten  out,  but  start  from  the  point  he  had 
reached,  and  go  bravely  forward.  “ When  I think  of 
you,”  he  wrote  in  another  letter,  “ I feel  something  of 
nearer  concernment  ” — than  the  ordinary  marks  of  friend- 
ship— “that  touches  me;  and  that  noble  principle  of 
the  love  of  truth  which  possesses  you  makes  me  almost 
forget  those  other  obligations  which  I should  be  very 
thankful  for  to  another.  In  good  earnest,  sir,  you  cannot 
think  what  a comfort  it  is  to  me  to  have  found  out  such  a 
man  ; and  not  only  so,  but  I have  the  satisfaction  that  he 
is  my  friend.  You  must  know  that  I am  a poor  ignorant  j 
man,  and,  if  I have  anything  to  boast  of,  it  is  that  I 
sincerely  love  and  seek  truth,  with  indifferency  whom  it 
pleases  or  displeases.  I take  you  to  be  of  the  same  school, 
and  so  embrace  you.”2 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  271;  Locke  to  Collins,  29  Oct.,  1703. 

2 Ibid,.,  p.  276;  Locke  to  Collins,  17  Nov.,  1703. 


FRESH  OPPOSITION  TO  THE  c ESSAY.’  523 

There  was  a new  outburst  of  opposition  to  Locke’s 
views  as  expressed  in  the  1 Essay  concerning  Human 
Understanding,’  during  the  last  year  of  his  life.  In 
November,  1703,  the  heads  of  colleges  met  at  Oxford, 
and,  after  some  had  proposed  that  the  book  should  be 
publicly  prohibited  in  the  university,  agreed  that  tutors 
should  be  instructed  not  to  read  it  with  their  pupils. 
“And  yet,”  his  old  friend  James  Tyrrell  wrote  five 
months  afterwards,  “ I do  not  find  that  any  such  thing 
has  been  put  in  execution  in  those  colleges  where  I 
have  any  acquaintance ; so  that  I believe  they,  finding 
it  like  to  have  little  effect,  have  thought  it  best  to  let  it 
drop.”  1 “I  take  what  has  been  done,”  Locke  wrote  to 
Collins,  as  a recommendation  of  that  book  to  the  world, 
as  you  do,  and  I conclude,  when  you  and  I next  meet, 
we  shall  be  merry  upon  the  subject.  For  this  is  certain 
that,  because  some  wink  or  turn  their  heads  away,  and 
will  not  see,  others  will  not  consent  to  have  their  eyes 
put  out.”  2 Nor  was  he  greatly  troubled  by  the  pamphlets 
that  continued  to  be  written  against  him  by  old  and  new 
antagonists.  Collins,  who  collected  these  attacks,  sent 
some  and  described  others  to  Locke,  and  thus  provoked 
from  him  a few  comments  upon  them ; but  he  thought 
none  of  them  worth  answer  and  even  endeavoured  to 
restrain  the  publication  of  a new  treatise  that  Bolde  had 
written  in  his  defence.  ’ ’ 3 

To  one  new  attack,  however,  he  began  a reply.  Jonas 
Proast,  who  had  written  two  treatises,  each  of  which 
Locke  had  answered,  against  his  ‘ Letter  concerning 

1 Lord  King,  p.  192 ; Tyrrell  to  Locke,  April,  1704. 

2 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  282  ; Locke  to  Collins,  21  Feb.,  1703-4. 

3 Ibid.,  pp.  282,  285,  296,  316,  319,  321 ; Locke  to  Collins,  21  and  24 
Feb.,  and  21  March,  1703-4,  29  June,  23  July  and  11  August,  1704. 


524 


LAST  YEARS. 


Chap.  XV. 


Toleration,’  published  a third  book  on  the  subject  in  1704. 
Locke,  surprised  at  this  new  utterance  after  a silence  of 
twelve  years,  again  took  up  his  pen  and  wrote,  at  such 
intervals  as  his  small  remaining  strength  allowed,  portions 
of  ‘A  Fourth  Letter  for  Toleration.’ 1 But  he  was  not 
able  to  complete  it ; and  the  fragment  need  not  here 
be  described.  It  is  noteworthy,  however,  that  the  great 
question  of  religious  liberty,  about  which  he  had  written 
his  ‘Essay  concerning  Toleration’  nearly  forty  years 
before,  was  still  such  an  important  one  with  him  that  he 
chose  to  devote  to  it  some  portions  of  the  last  months, 
perhaps  of  the  last  weeks,  of  his  life. 


He  had  done  work  enough  in  his  lifetime  of  two-and- 
seventy  years  ; and  here,  before  we  follow  the  story  of 
that  life  to  its  close,  we  must  pause  and  take  account 
of  what  he  had  done  and  the  way  in  which  he  had  i 
done  it. 

Locke  will  always  be  remembered,  and  very  properly, 
especially  as  a metaphysician.  Admirable  and  useful  to 
the  world  as  was  all  the  work  done  by  him  in  other  ways 
than  as  an  author,  and  admirable  and  useful  as  were  his 
other  writings,  the  ‘ Essay  concerning  Human  Under- 
standing ’ was  his  greatest  gift  to  his  own  and  later  gene- 
rations. By  it  modern  philosophy  has  been  revolutionised, 
and  if  many  rival  sects  of  thinkers  have  built  upon  the 
broad  foundations  that  he  laid  and  some  of  them  ignore 
their  debt  to  him,  that  debt  is  none  the  less  for  their 
ingratitude.  The  science  of  mind  was  in  almost  hopeless 
confusion,  if  it  could  then  be  called  a science  at  all,  when 
he  began  to  study  it.  Truth  was  buried  under  a heap  of 

1 ‘ Posthumous  Works  of  Mr.  John  Locke,’  pp.  235 — 277. 


J;°y  locke’s  work  in  philosophy.  525 

scholastic  jargon,  and  the  quest  of  truth  was  altogether 
abandoned  by  all  orthodox  thinkers  for  the  enunciation  of 
meaningless  maxims  and  of  dogmas  for  which  no  valid 
authority  could  be  given.  Others  had  sought  before  his 
time,  and  continued  in  his  time  to  seek,  bravely  and 
boldly  to  probe  the  mystery  and  to  bring  truth  hack  again. 
Descartes,  his  first  master,  had  done  much ; Gassendi 
had  done  perhaps  as  much  ; Hobbes  had  done  a great  deal 
more.  But  Descartes  had  used  his  talents  chiefly  in  the 
substitution  of  new  and  unproved  dogmas  for  the  old 
ones.  Gassendi  had  lost  himself  in  ingenious  specula- 
tions clogged  by  traditions  of  the  system  he  aspired  to 
displace.  Hobbes  had  contented  himself  with  shrewd 
guesses,  often  expressed  in  such  terms  as  drove  away 
would-be  disciples.  Locke  gathered  up  all  that  he  found 
to  be  good  in  their  teachings  and  in  the  teachings  of  all 
the  other  able  teachers  before  and  around  linn,  and  made 
it  his  own,  and  used  it  as  the  basis  of  speculations  as  bold 
as  they  were  honest,  as  free  from  bias  as  they  were  free 
from  dogmatism. 

Probably  intended  by  his  father  to  be  a theologian, 
certainly  intending  himself  to  be  a physician,  and  deeply 
imbued  all  through  his  life  by  a religious  spirit  while  he 
was  as  persistent  in  his  devotion  to  medical  pursuits, 
these  diverse,  though  not  in  his  case  contrary,  influences 
greatly  affected  his  philosophical  studies.  It  was  at  no 
time  possible  for  him  to  believe  that  he  could  find  out 
everything,  or  even  to  desire,  in  this  life,  to  do  so ; 
least  of  all  did  he  desire,  or  was  it  possible  for  him, 
so  to  reject  all  that  he  could  not  understand  as  to 
lose  his  belief  in  God  or  to  take  no  account  of  him 
in  his  studies  ; he  only  thought  that  he  should  serve  God 
best  by  striving  to  find  out  what  powers  of  intellect  he 


526 


LAST  YEAES 


[Chap.  X. 


had  endowed  men  with  and  how  they  ought  to  use  them. 
This  may  have  been  to  a certain  degree  a bias,  and  may 
to  some  extent  have  led  him  towards  dogmatism  ; but 
never  wTas  an  avowed  theologian  more  free  from  either 
fault.  His  studies  in  physical  science  helped  him.  here, 
and  helped  him  immensely  in  his  inquiries  “ concerning 
human  understanding.”  Repudiating  from  the  first  the 
Cartesian  as  well  as  the  pre-Cartesian  assumptions  as  to 
innate  ideas — that  is,  of  a mind  having  separate  existence 
and  endowments  from  the  body — he  maintained  that  the 
mind,  in  this  state  of  its  existence  at  any  rate,  can  be 
nothing  and  know  nothing  without  the  body.  Into  the 
materialistic  and  idealistic  speculations  growing  neces- 
sarily out  of  his  views,  and  started  before  his  time  on  the 
one  part  by  Hobbes  and  on  the  other  by  Malebranche,  it 
hardly  occurred  to  him  to  engage,  or  if  he  was  to  some 
extent  forced  into  them  by  his  controversy  with  Bishop 
Stillingfleet,  his  observations  thereupon  were  not  very 
profound  or  satisfactory.  They  had  no  place,  however, 
in  his  scheme  of  mental  science.  It  satisfied  him  to 
argue  and  to  prove  that  we  can  have  no  ideas  that  are 
not  derived  from  our  senses. 

That,  if  not  exactly  a discovery  or  a revelation  of 
Locke’s,  was  a doctrine  important  enough  to  place  the 
propounder  of  it  in  the  foremost  rank  of  philosophers.  ! 
No  one  before  him  had  propounded  it  with  any  approach 
to  the  clearness,  vigour  and  completeness  shown  in  his  : 
exposition ; and  it  was  the  basis  of  his  teaching  as 
regards  the  science  of  mind.  His  explanation  of  the 
development  of  ideas  of  reflection,  as  he  called  them,  out 
of  ideas  of  sensation  was  not  adequate  to  the  require-  i 
ments  of  modern  students  who  have  grown  wise  by  his  ! 
guidance,  but  no  serious  opposition  was  offered  to  it  in  his 


1704.  "I 
iEt.  72.  J 


locke’s  work  in  philosophy. 


527 


day;  and  the  conqueror  of  a new  world  is  not  to  he 
blamed  for  not  at  once  mastering  every  inch  of  its 
territory,  or  endeavouring  to  quell,  in  anticipation,  any 
insurrections  that  may  afterwards  arise  in  it.  That 
Locke  did  conquer  his  new  world,  far  more  thoroughly 
than  Columbus  conquered  his,  and  showed  how  prosper- 
ous colonies  might  be  planted  in  it,  albeit  to  contend 
with  one  another  until  one  grand  empire  should  he  con- 
structed out  of  them  under  the  sway  of  truth  alone,  was 
praise  enough. 

To  pursue  his  conquest  he  found  it  necessary  almost  to 
invent,  out  of  the  rusted  materials  handed  down  from  the 
days  of  Aristotle,  with  much  new  and  bright  material  of  his 
own  unearthing,  the  art  of  logic.  Then,  having  shown, 
according  to  his  light,  what  ideas  are,  and  how  words  are  to 
be  used  as  their  weapons,  he  showed  what  use  is  to  be 
made  of  them  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  What  he 
taught  about  the  degrees  and  extent  of  knowledge,  its  reality 
and  the  grounds  of  certainty,  its  limits  and  the  relations 
between  reason  and  faith,  cannot  be  prized  too  highly. 
Much  of  it  may  have  been  superseded,  but,  it  must  again 
be  remembered,  only  by  those  whom  he  taught  to  super- 
sede him. 

In  all  that  his  strongest  desire  has  been  gratified.  All 
he  sought  was  truth.  All  he  desired  was  that  others 
should  join  in  the  noble  quest.  He  never  thought — he 
would  have  indignantly  resented  the  supposition  as  the 
greatest  insult  that  could  be  offered  to  him- — of  assuming 
that  his  teaching  was  final.  All  he  aspired,  after  was  to 
be  a pioneer  in  the  war  against  ignorance,  to  plant  the 
standard  a little  nearer  to  the  far-off  goal,  hoping  that 
others  would  go  beyond  him,  caring  little  or  not  at 
all  though  he  might  be  forgotten  altogether,  if  truth 


528 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV 


only  truth,  were  reverenced.  Truth  is  at  best  hut  a 
beautiful  goddess  to  others.  Truth  was  God  himself  to 
Locke. 

No  man  ever  strove  more,  or  did  more,  to  bring  meta- 
physics out  of  the  desert  of  idle  speculation  or  the  dream- 
land of  foolish  fancy  into  the  domain  of  common-sense 
and  every-day  life  ; and  no  metaphysician  ever  concerned 
himself  more,  or  more  worthily,  with  the  practical  busi- 
ness of  his  own  time  and  country.  His  first  and  unpub- 
lished writings  gave  evidence  of  his  interest  in  public 
affairs,  and  nearly  all  his  published  works  were  mainly 
designed  to  promote  the  political,  social  and  religious  well- 
being of  the  world,  and  especially  of  his  immediate 
contemporaries.  They  were,  indeed,  too  much  rather 
than  too  little  in  the  nature  of  pamphlets.  In  all  of 
them,  however,  profound  views  of  permanent  value,  though 
offered  only  in  the  way  of  suggestions  to  be  improved 
upon  by  others,  were  cogently  advanced.  In  his  work  on  j 
Government  he  not  only  laid  the  foundations,  but  sup- 
plied much  of  the  superstructure,  of  political  science,  and 
made  an  important  contribution  to  the  establishment  of 
the  yet  undeveloped  science  of  political  economy,  other 
and  hardly  less  important  contributions  thereto  being 
made  in  his  tracts  on  Interest  and  Money.  The  rela- 
tions of  religion  to  politics  were  convincingly  and  con- 
clusively defined  in  his  writings  on  Toleration,  and  the 
relations  of  religion  to  theology  were  clearly  enough  indi- 
cated, and  suggested  with  amazing  boldness  for  a Christian 
of  that  time,  in  ‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,’ 
and  in  the  commentaries  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul. 
That  he  never  performed  his  half- given  promise  to 
write  in  detail  upon  ethics  may  be  regretted,  but  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at  when  we  remember  that  he  found  for 


m.ft72.]  loose’s  seeyices  in  practical  affairs.  529 

his  own  guidance,  and  recommended  others  to  find,  a 
complete  ethical  system  in  the  Bible ; and  ethical  hints 
of  the  highest  value,  with  much  else  connected  therewith, 
were  contained  in  £ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Educa- 
tion,’ and  in  ‘ The  Conduct  of  the  Understanding.’  Here 
surely  was  a wide  enough  range  of  subjects  for  one  man 
to  handle,  and  to  handle,  as  Lady  Masham  said,  in  ways 
that  “ express  the  largeness  of  his  mind,  his  great  pene- 
tration, the  strength  of  his  judgment,  and  the  wonderful 
perspicacity  and  clearness  which  was  in  all  his  notions.” 
“I  will  only  beg,”  she  added,  “ that,  in  reflecting  upon 
this  part  of  his  character,  it  may  not  be  forgotten  that  he 
possessed  all  these  and  many  other  rare  qualities,  without 
that  any  one  of  them  ever  appeared,  if  I may  say  so,  to 
possess  him.”  1 

Locke’s  connection  with  public  affairs,  apart  from 
authorship,  must  not  be  forgotten.  It  is  not  easy  to 
trace  his  share  in  the  futile  but  honest  efforts  made'  by 
the  first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  and  other  less  able  and  less 
worthy  men  to  rescue  England  from  degradation  under 
Charles  the  Second  ; but  we  know  that  during  sixteen 
years,  with  three  and  a half  years’  interval,  when  he  was 
in  France,  he  was  an  active  politician,  labouring  with  all 
his  strength  to  serve  his  country.  He  rendered  more 
apparent  service  duriug  the  better  days  of  William  the 
Third,  though  then  his  broken  health  and  advancing  age 
sorely  crippled  his  desire  to  give  efficient  proof  of  his 
patriotism,  and  held  him  back  from  many  offices  that  men 
who  knew  his  worth  sought  to  force  upon  him. 

Of  his  private  bearing,  and  his  character  and  tempera- 
ment, as  exhibited  to  his  friends,  such  a graphic  and 

1 MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants'  Library;  Lady  Masham  to  Le  Clerc,  12  Jan  , 
1704-5. 

Vol.  II.— 34 


530 


LAST  TEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


evidently  truthful  account  was  written  shortly  after  his 
death  by  Lady  Masham,  the  friend  who  knew  him  better 
than  any  one  else,  that  there  is  here  little  more  to  be 
done  than  quote  her  words,  with  a few  additions  from  the 
independent  testimony  of  Pierre  Coste,  who,  as  Prank 
Masham’s  tutor  at  Oates,  was  in  intimate  relations  with 
him  during  the  last  seven  years  of  his  life.1 

“No  man,”  said  Lady  Masham,  “was  less  magisterial 
or  dogmatic  than  he,  or  less  offended  with  any  man’s 
dissenting  from  him  in  opinion.  There  are  yet  an  im- 
pertinent set  of  disputants  who,  though  you  have  answered 
their  arguments  over  and  over  again,  will  still  return  to 
them,  and  still  repeat  the  same  things  after  having  been 
ever  so  often  beaten  out  of  them.  With  these  Mr.  Locke 
would  be  apt  sometimes  to  speak  a little  warmly;  for 
which  yet  he  would  oftener  blame  himself  than  anybody 
else  saw  cause  for  him  to  do  so.  He  had  the  greatest 
condescension  in  the  world  to  the  meanest  of  other  men’s 
capacities,  and  always,  in  his  debates  with  any  one,  found 
all  the  strength  in  their  arguments  against  him  that  could 
he  conceived  to  be  in  them,  had  the  thoughts  of  the  pro- 
posers been  better  digested,  or  their  sense  more  advantaged 
by  then  expression.  He  was  alike  conversible  with  all 
sorts  of  people,  and  equally  pleased  and  profited  all;  which 
proceeded  not  purely  from  his  singular  humanity  and  good 
breeding,  that  taught  him  to  accommodate  himself  to 
every  one,  but  also  from  his  real  persuasion  that  he  could 

1 Coste’s  account  was  published  in  Bayle’s  critical  magazine,  Les  Nouvelles 
de  la  Bepvblique  des  Lettres,  for  February,  1705.  Lady  Masham’s  is  con- 
tained in  her  long  letter,  so  often  already  quoted  from,  to  Le  Clerc,  dated 
12  Jan.,  1704-5.  As  I was  unable  to  find  the  last  sheet  of  this  letter  among 
the  MSS.  in  the  Remonstrants’  Library,  I have  been  compelled  to  re-trans- 
ate  her  concluding  paragraphs  from  Le  Clerc’s  translation  in  his  ‘ Eloge.’ 


Jt°72.]  locke’s  bearing  and  conversation.  531 

learn  something  which  was  useful  of  everybody,  together 
with  a universal  love  of  all  sorts  of  useful  knowledge  ; 
from  whence,  and  from  his  custom  of  suiting  his  discourse 
to  the  understanding  and  proper  skill  of  every  one  he 
conversed  with,  he  had  acquired  so  much  insight  into  all 
manner  of  arts  or  trades  as  was  to  everybody  surprising  ; 
for  a stranger  might  well  have  thought  that  he  had  made 
each  of  these  matters  his  study  or  practice,  and  those 
whose  professions  these  things  were  often  owned  they 
could  learn  a great  deal  from  him  concerning  them,  and 
did  frequently  beg  his  directions  or  advice  thereon.” 
Pierre  Coste’s  account  of  these  aspects  of  Locke’s 
character  curiously  confirms  Lady  Masham’s  and  fur- 
nishes some  fresh  details.  “ Nobody,”  he  said,  “ was 
ever  a greater  master  of  the  art  of  accommodating  him- 
self to  all  capacities.  It  was  his  peculiar  art  of  conversa- 
tion to  lead  people  to  talk  of  what  they  understood  best. 
With  a gardener  he  discoursed  of  gardening  ; with  a 
jeweller,  of  diamonds  ; with  a chemist,  of  drugs,  and  so  on. 

‘ By  this,’  he  would  say,  £ I please  all  those  men,  who 
generally  can  speak  intelligently  about  nothing  else. 
When  they  see  that  I know  something  about  their  busi- 
ness, they  are  pleased  to  tell  me  more  about  it,  and  thus 
I profit  by  conversing  with  them.’  And,  indeed,  Mr. 
Locke  in  these  ways  acquired  a very  good  insight  into  all 
the  arts,  of  which  he  daily  learnt  more  and  more.  He 
used  to  say  that  the  knowledge  of  the  arts  contained  more 
true  philosophy  than  all  the  fine  and  learned  hypotheses 
that  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  nature  of  things,  and 
serve  only  to  make  men  lose  their  time  in  inventing  or 
trying  to  understand  them.  Times  without  number  have 
I been  amazed  at  the  way  in  which,  by  the  questions  he 
has  put  to  working  people,  he  has  found  out  secrets  of 


532 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


their  art  which  they  themselves  had  not  mastered,  often 
giving  them  entirely  new  views  of  their  business,  which 
they  found  great  advantage  in  putting  in  practice.  The 
easiness  with  which  he  thus  conversed  with  all  sorts  of 
men,  and  the  pleasure  he  took  in  doing  it,  surprised  all 
who  talked  with  him  for  the  first  time.  Many  who  knew 
him  only  by  his  writings,  or  by  his  reputation  as  one  of 
the  greatest  philosophers  of  the  age,  thinking  him  one  of 
those  scholars  who  are  full  of  themselves  and  their  own 
sublime  speculations,  unable  to  enter  into  the  ordinary 
little  concerns  of  mankind  or  the  affairs  of  every-day  life, 
were  utterly  surprised  to  find  him  so  affable  and  good- 
humoured,  so  full  of  kind  feeling  and  pleasant  courtesy, 
always  ready  to  hear  them  and  to  talk  with  them  about 
the  things  that  interested  them,  instead  of  making  a show 
of  his  own  wisdom.  I know  a very  clever  Englishman 
who  was  for  a long  time  prejudiced  against  him,  thinking 
of  him  as  an  imitator  of  the  old  philosophers,  wearing  a 
long  beard  and  very  untidy  in  his  person,  talking  very 
sententiously,  showing  no  more  politeness  than  might  be 
expected  from  a good-humoured  man — a sort  of  pohteness 
that  is  often  very  coarse  and  disagreeable.  But  a single 
hour’s  conversation  cured  him  of  this  opinion.  ‘ Mr. 
Locke  is  not  at  all  the  grave  philosopher,  able  to  be 
nothing  but  a philosopher,  that  I pictured  to  myself,’  he 
said ; ‘ he  is  a perfect  courtier,  and  his  obliging  and  civil 
behaviour  is  as  admirable  as  the  profoundness  and  delicacy 
of  his  genius.’  ” 

“ If  there  was  anything  that  Mr.  Locke  could  not  sort 
himself  to,  or  be  easy  in  conversation  with,”  said  Lady 
Masham,  pursuing  this  subject,  “ it  was  ill-breeding.  He 
had  a great  disgust  of  this,  where  it  appeared  to  proceed 
not  from  want  of  having  been  conversant  in  the  world, 


£t7072.]  locke’s  versatility  and  humour.  533 

but  from  pride,  arrogance,  ill-nature,  or  stupid  incogi- 
tancy  and  want  of  reflection  upon  men’s  actions.  Other- 
wise he  was  far  from  undervaluing  the  worth  of  any  man 
from  his  having  a mean  appearance  or  an  ungraceful 
fashion.  Civility  yet  he  thought  not  only  the  great 
ornament  of  life,  and  that  that  gave  lustre  and  gloss  to 
all  our  actions,  but  looked  upon  it  as  a Christian  duty  that 
deserved  to  be  more  inculcated  as  such  than  it  generally 
was.  If  Mr.  Locke’s  company  was  exceedingly  accept- 
able to  all  sorts  of  men,  it  was  not  less  so  to  ladies.  I 
believe  it  not  easy  to  say  whether  his  penetration  and  the 
solidity  of  his  judgment  in  subtle  and  abstruse  specula- 
tions, or  the  agreeableness  of  his  wit  in  common  conver- 
sation, were  the  more  extraordinary ; but  the  reputation 
of  the  one  made  the  other  more  admirable,  these  two  so 
seldom  meeting.  So  that  many  who  sought  his  acquaint- 
ance from  a real  desire  to  learn  of  him  what  might  he 
expected  from  a great  philosopher,  or  else  from  the  vanity 
of  knowing  a man  of  that  character,  were  much  sur- 
prised, when  they  saw  him  first,  to  find  not  only  a well- 
bred  gentleman,  but  a man  that  was  master  of  all  the 
talents  belonging  to  the  polite  conversation  of  the  world. 
Baillery,  which  is  the  nicest  part  of  conversation,  he 
often  spoke  against  as  being  of  dangerous  consequences, 
if  not  well  managed;  but,  however  difficult  he  justly 
thought  this,  he  practised  it  better  than  any  one,  and  very 
rarely,  if  ever,  to  the  least  offence,  much  less  to  the  real 
prejudice,  of  any  person.  He  had  a wit  that  could  easily 
turn  things  any  way  and  dress  up  any  subject  agreeably. 
But,  for  the  most  part,  what  he  rallied  his  friends  for, 
stripped  of  the  dress  he  put  upon  it,  was  at  the  bottom 
some  very  slight  fault,  or  else  that  which  was  really 
commendable  and  for  their  honour  to  be  known  ; so  that, 


534 


LAST  TEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


under  pretence  of  rallying  them  for  something  that  was 
not  at  all  hlamable,  or  in  a very  inconsiderable  degree 
so,  his  manner  was  to  say  something  gallant,  kind,  or 
extremely  civil  and  obliging ; and  raillery  in  him  was  so 
far  from  expressing  the  least  disrespect,  that,  when  he 
began  to  speak  to  you  with  that  air,  you  might  almost  be 
assured  that  he  was  going  to  say  what  it  should  be  for 
your  credit  to  have  said,  or  at  least  to  make  you  a hand- 
some compliment.  And  to  jest  at  any  one’s  misfortune 
or  imperfection  was  a thing  abhorrent  from  his  nature.” 

A little  more  of  what  Coste  said  about  Locke’s  way  of 
conversation  must  be  quoted.  “ Though  he  chiefly  loved 
truths  that  were  useful,  and  with  such  fed  his  mind,  and 
was  generally  well  pleased  to  make  them  the  subject  of 
his  discourse,  yet  he  used  to  say  that,  in  order  to  employ 
one  part  of  his  life  in  serious  and  important  occupations, 
it  was  necessary  to  spend  another  in  mere  amusements  ; 
and,  when  an  occasion  naturally  offered,  he  gave  himself 
up  with  pleasure  to  the  charms  of  free  and  facetious  con- 
versation. He  remembered  a great  many  agreeable 
stories,  which  he  always  brought  in  properly,  and  gene- 
rally made  yet  more  delightful  by  his  easy  and  humorous 
way  of  telling  them.” 

“ Mr.  Locke  had  a great  knowledge  of  the  world,  and 
of  the  business  of  it,”  Coste  further  reported.  “ Prudent 
without  being  cunning,  he  won  people’s  esteem  by  his 
uprightness,  and  was  always  safe  from  the  advances  of  a 
false  friend  or  a sordid  flatterer.  Averse  to  all  mean 
complaisance,  his  wisdom,  his  experience,  his  gentle  and 
obliging  manners,  gained  him  the  respect  of  his  inferiors, 
the  esteem  of  his  equals,  the  friendship  and  confidence  of 
men  in  the  highest  station.  Without  setting  up  for  a 
teacher,  he  instructed  others  by  his  own  conduct.  Ha 


JIP72.]  locke’s  kindness  in  word  and  deed.  53 5 

was  at  first  pretty  much  disposed  to  offer  advice  to  such 
of  his  friends  as  he  thought  wanted  it ; but  at  length, 
finding  that  1 Good  counsels  are  very  little  effectual  in 
making  people  more  prudent,’  he  grew  much  more  re- 
served in  that  particular.  I have  often  heard  him  say 
that  the  first  time  he  heard  that  maxim  he  thought  it 
very  strange,  hut  that  experience  had  fully  convinced  him 
of  the  truth  of  it.  Yet,  much  as  he  despaired  of  setting 
right  those  whom  he  saw  to  be  in  the  wrong,  his  natural 
goodness,  the  aversion  he  had  to  disorder,  and  the  interest 
he  took  in  those  about  him,  often  forced  him  to  break  his 
rule  of  leaving  them  to  choose  their  own  road,  and  led 
him  to  give  them  such  advice  as  he  thought  most  likely 
to  be  of  use  to  them  ; but  this  he  always  did  in  a modest 
way,  and  so  as  to  convince  them  by  solid  arguments,  for 
which  he  was  never  at  a loss.  And  he  was  very  liberal  of 
his  counsels  when  they  were  desired,  and  nobody  ever 
consulted  him  in  vain.  The  extreme  vigour  of  his  mind, 
one  of  his  reigning  qualities,  and  in  which  perhaps  he 
never  had  an  equal,  his  great  experience,  and  the  sincere 
desire  that  he  had  to  be  serviceable  to  all  mankind,  en- 
abled him  always  to  recommend  the  courses  that  were 
most  just  and  least  dangerous ; I say  least  dangerous, 
for  what  he  proposed  to  himself  before  all  things  was  to 
lead  those  who  consulted  him  into  no  trouble.  This  was 
one  of  his  favourite  maxims,  and  he  never  neglected  it.” 
He  gave  other  things  besides  good  counsel.  “ He  was 
naturally  compassionate,”  said  Lady  Masham,  “ and  ex- 
ceedingly charitable  to  those  in  want ; but  his  charity 
was  always  directed  to  encourage  working,  laborious, 
industrious  people,  and  not  to  relieve  idle  beggars,  to 
whom  he  never  gave  anything,  or  would  suffer  his  friends 
to  do  so  before  him,  saying  such  people  as  those  were 


536 


LAST  YEAES. 


[CHAr.  XV. 


‘ robbers  of  tlie  poor,’  and  asking  those  that  went  to 
relieve  them  ‘ whether  they  knew  none  that  were  in 
want  and  deserved  help  ; ’ if  so,  ‘ how  they  could  satisfy 
themselves  to  give  anything  they  could  spare  to  such 
as  they  knew  not  to  be  in  need,  but  who  probably  de- 
served to  be  so  ? ’ One  article  of  his  inquiry,  when  any 
objects  of  charity  were  recommended  to  him,  was  ‘whether 
they  were  people  that  duly  attended  the  public  worship 
of  God  in  any  congregation  whatever,’  and,  if  they  did 
not,  but  were  such  as  spent  their  time  on  Sundays  lazily 
at  home,  or  worse  employed  in  an  alehouse,  they  were 
sure  to  be  more  sparingly  relieved  than  others  in  the 
same  circumstances.  People  who  had  been  industrious, 
but  were,  through  age  or  infirmity,  past  labour,  he  was 
very  bountiful  to  ; and  he  used  to  blame  that  sparingness 
with  which  such  were  ordinarily  relieved,  ‘ as  if  it  sufficed 
only  that  they  should  be  kept  from  starving  or  extreme 
misery;  whereas,  they  had,’  he  said,  ‘a  right  to  living 
comfortably  in  the  world.’ 

“ Waste  of  anything  he  could  not  bear  to  see,  and  he  | 
often  found  fault  that  people  were  generally  so  little 
instructed  as  to  think  they  might  do  what  they  would 
with  what  was  indeed  their  own,  in  exclusion  of  any 
other  proprietor  amongst  men,  but  not  of  God,  who 
is  the  supreme  Lord  of  all,  and  to  whom  all  men  are 
but  stewards,  and  shall  one  day  be  accountable.  Nor 
would  he,  if  he  could  help  it,  let  anything  be  destroyed 
which  could  serve  for  the  nourishment,  maintenance,  or 
allowable  pleasure  of  any  creature,  though  but  the  birds 
of  the  air.  He  yet  thought  very  blamable  that  fondness 
of  birds,  dogs,  or  other  such  creatures  which  makes  some 
people  feed  them  with  such  meat  as  their  own  neighbours 
want  and  would  be  glad  of. 


•2Et°72.]  locke’s  personal  habits.  537 

“ He  was  a great  lover  of  order  and  economy,  and  an 
exact  keeper  of  accounts. 

“ The  passion  he  was  most  prone  to  was  anger,”  this 
truthful  chronicler  went  onto  say;  “but  his  great  good 
sense  and  good  breeding  so  far  subdued  this  that  it  was 
rarely  troublesome.1  No  one  could  better  expose  that 
passion,  and  point  out  its  absurdity,  than  he.  He  urged 
that  it  was  of  no  use  in  the  educating  of  children  or  the 
keeping  of  servants  in  order,  and  that  all  it  could  do  was 
to  lessen  a man’s  authority.  He  was  very  kind  to  his 
servants,  and  was  careful,  with  the  utmost  mildness,  to 
show  them  in  what  manner  he  expected  them  to  serve 
him. 

“ He  not  only  faithfully  kept  every  secret  that  was 
trusted  with  him,  but  he  never  reported  anything  that 
could  prejudice  any  person  from  whom  he  heard  it, 
although  he  had  not  been  asked  to  be  silent  about  it ; 
nor  did  he  ever  bring  any  inconvenience  to  his  friends  by 
any  sort  of  inadvertency  or  want  of  discretion.  He  was 
very  exact  to  his  word,  and  religiously  performed  every- 
thing that  he  promised. 

“ In  his  dress  and  habits  he  was  very  neat,  without 
any  affectation  or  singularity. 

“ He  was  naturally  very  active,  and  employed  himself 
as  much  as  his  health  permitted.  Sometimes  he  diverted 
himself  by  working  in  the  garden,  which  he  very  well 
understood.  He  was  very  fond  of  walking,  but,  not  being 
able  to  walk  much,  because  of  the  disorder  of  his  lungs,  he 
used  to  ride  out  after  dinner,  and,  when  he  could  no  longer 
sit  on  a horse,  in  an  easy  carriage. 

“ He  always  chose  to  have  company  with  him,  if  it 

1 From  this  point  to  the  end  of  the  quotation  I have  had  to  translate  from 
Le  Clerc’s  translation  or  abridgment. 


538 


LAST  TEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


were  only  a child ; for  lie  loved  children,  and  took  pleasure 
in  talking  with  those  that  had  been  well  trained. 

“ The  weakness  of  his  health  gave  trouble  to  none  hut 
himself,  save  only  for  the  pain  one  had  in  seeing  him 
suffer.  He  did  not  differ  from  other  people  in  his  diet, 
except  that  his  ordinary  drink  was  nothing  hut  water ; 
and  he  thought  that  this  had  been  the  means  of  lengthen- 
ing out  his  life  to  so  many  years  as  he  reached,  though  of 
so  weak  a constitution,  and  also  of  preserving  his  eye- 
sight, which  was  hut  little  impaired  up  to  the  end  of  his 
life ; for  he  could  read  by  candle-light  all  sorts  of  books,  if 
they  were  not  of  very  small  print,  and  he  never  used 
spectacles.” 

How  much  he  read  may  he  inferred  from  the  entries 
made  in  the  journals  that  he  kept  during  the  middle 
period  of  his  life,  and  from  the  very  frequent  allusions  and 
references  to  he  found  in  his  correspondence  during  that 
and  the  later  period.  All  old  literature  and  every  work  of 
note  that  appeared  in  his  lifetime,  written  in  English, 
Latin,  or  French,  whether  on  philosophy,  science,  or 
theology,  politics,  history,  or  travel,  was  not  only  skimmed 
over,  but  studied  by  him.  When  he  was  ill  in  bed  and 
could  not  read  himself,  Lady  Masham  or  her  step-daughter 
Esther  read  to  him,  perhaps  also  Frank  Masham,  and, 
when  she  was  visiting  her  “ husband  ” at  Oates,  Betty 
Clarke. 

There  were  certain  books  that  he  did  not  care  to  read. 
“As  he  always  kept  the  useful  in  his  eye,”  said  Coste, 
“ he  esteemed  the  works  of  men  only  in  proportion  to  the 
good  they  were  able  to  do  ; for  which  reason  he  had  no 
great  value  for  those  critics  or  mere  grammarians  that 
waste  their  lives  in  comparing  words  and  phrases,  and  in 
coming  to  a determination  in  the  choice  of  a reading  of  a 


i;°72.]  locke’s  reading  and  mode  of  study.  539 

passage  that  has  nothing  important  in  it.  He  cared  yet 
less  for  those  professed  disputants  who,  wholly  taken  up 
with  the  desire  of  coming  off  victorious,  fortify  themselves 
behind  the  ambiguity  of  words.  Moreover,  he  disliked 
those  authors  that  labour  only  to  destroy,  without  estab- 
lishing anything  themselves.  ‘A  building,’  he  used  to 
say,  £ displeases  them.  They  find  great  faults  in  it.  Let 
them  pull  it  down,  and  welcome,  provided  they  do  then: 
utmost  to  raise  up  another  in  its  place.’  ” 

As  regards  his  own  mode  of  work  as  an  author,  and  his 
advice  to  others  based  on  his  own  experience,  the  same 
companion  said,  “ He  advised  that,  whenever  we  have 
meditated  anything  new,  we  should  throw  it  as  soon  as 
possible  upon  paper,  in  order  to  be  the  better  able  to  judge 
of  it  by  seeing  it  all  together  ; because  the  mind  of  man 
is  not  capable  of  retaining  clearly  a long  chain  of  conse- 
quences, or  of  seeing,  without  confusion,  the  relation  of  a 
great  number  of  different  ideas.  Besides,  it  often  happens 
that  what  we  had  most  admired,  when  considered  in  the 
gross  and  in  a perplexed  manner,  appears  utterly  incon- 
sistent and  indefensible  when  we  see  every  part  of  it 
distinctly.  Mr.  Locke  also  thought  it  necessary  always 
to  communicate  one’s  thoughts  to  some  friend,  especially 
if  one  thought  of  offering  them  to  the  world  ; and  this  was 
what  he  always  did  himself.  He  could  hardly  conceive 
how  a being  of  so  limited  a capacity  as  man,  and  so  sub- 
ject to  error,  could  be  bold  enough  to  neglect  this  precau- 
tion.” 

Those  testimonies  of  two  persons  who  knew  Locke 
intimately  are  abundantly  confirmed,  in  nearly  every 
particular,  by  the  details  that  have  been  given  in  the 
foregoing  pages.  And  they  leave  nothing  further  to  be 
said. 


540 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


The  key  to  his  whole  character,  bearing  and  work  is 
presented  in  one  apt  sentence  of  Lady  Masham’s,  “ He 
was  always,  in  the  greatest  and  in  the  smallest  affairs  of 
human  life,  as  well  as  in  speculative  opinions,  disposed  to 
follow  reason,  whosoever  it  were  that  suggested  it ; he 
being  ever  a faithful  servant — I had  almost  said  a slave — 
to  Truth  ; never  abandoning  her  for  anything  else,  and 
following  her,  for  her  own  sake,  purely.” 


Locke  made  his  will  on  the  lltli  of  April,  1704.  To  his 
friend  Edward  Clarke,  of  Cliipley,  he  left  200 1.,  and  to 
Clarke’s  daughter  Elizabeth — his  little  “ wife  ” Betty — 
another  200 1. , along  with  a portrait  of  her  mother.  He  made 
smaller  bequests  in  money  to  his  cousins,  Peter  Stratton 
and  John  Bonville,  and  to  two  other  cousins  of  whom  we 
know  nothing,  Mary  Holeman,  and  Anne  Hasel,  wife  of 
John  Hasel,  of  Bishop’s  Sutton,  in  Somersetshire ; to 
William  Grigg,  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  doubtless 
the  son  of  his  “ sister  ” or  cousin,  Mrs.  Grigg  ; to  Anthony 
Collins  ; to  Awnsham  Churchill,  his  publisher  ; to  Benja- 
min Furly,  of  Botterdam  ; to  Dr.  Yeen  and  Dr.  Guenellon, 
and  Guenellon’s  wife  and  son,  in  Amsterdam.  He  left 
small  sums  to  be  distributed  among  the  poor  of  Publow 
and  Pensford  and  High  Laver,  and  his  own  and  Lady 
Masham’s  servants.  As  marks  of  his  good-will  he  be- 
queathed 10 1.  apiece,  with  furniture  and  books,  to  Sir 
Erancis  Masham  and  his  daughter  Esther  Masham.  To 
Lady  Masham  he  bequeathed  his  ruby  and  diamond  rings, 
the  portrait  of  her  mother,  Mrs.  Cudworth,  and  a number 
of  books  to  be  selected  by  herself  from  his  library.  He 
assigned  to  Peter  King,  Anthony  Collins,  and  Awnsham 
Churchill  the  sum  of  3000^.,  to  be  held  in  trust  by  them 


1704.  "I 
■ffit.  71.  J 


LOCKE  S WILL. 


541 


for  Francis  Cudworth  Masliam  until  he  attained  the  age 
of  twenty-five,  with  reversion,  in  case  of  his  prior  death 
and  of  her  survival  as  a widow,  to  Lady  Masharn,  or 
otherwise  to  Peter  King,  Lady  Masham  receiving  the 
interest  in  the  interval.  In  these  ways,  and  some  others 
that  need  not  be  detailed,  he  disposed  of  nearly  450CK, 
probably  about  the  value  of  his  estate  in  money.  Half 
his  books  he  left  to  young  Masham ; the  other  half,  with 
all  his  manuscripts  and  the  remainder  of  his  personal  pro- 
perty, to  Peter  King ; and  his  landed  property,  as  to  the 
value  of  which  we  have  no  information,  was  to  be  divided 
equally  between  Stratton  and  King,  the  latter  being  ap- 
pointed his  sole  executor.  A few  small  bequests  were 
added  in  a codicil  that  he  signed  on  the  5th  of  September. 
He  directed  that  he  should  be  buried  in  the  parish  church- 
yard of  High  Laver,  in  a plain  coffin,  without  ornament 
or  ostentation  of  any  kind,  and  that  the  money  that  would 
have  been  required  for  a more  costly  funeral  should  be 
expended  in  buying  clothes  for  four  labourers  at  Oates 
whom  he  named.1 

He  had  hardly  expected  to  live  through  the  winter  of 
1703.  “As  to  my  lungs,”  he  had  written  to  King  in 
November,  “ they  go  on  their  course,  and,  though  they 
have  brought  me  now  to  be  good  for  nothing,  I am  not 
surprised  at  it.  They  have  lasted  longer  already  than 
the  world  or  I expected.  How  much  longer  they  will  be 
able  to  blow  at  the  hard  rate  they  do,  I cannot  precisely 
say ; but  in  the  race  of  human  life,  when  breath  is  want- 
ing for  the  least  motion,  one  cannot  be  far  from  one’s 
journey’s  end.  I take  very  kindly  your  offer  of  coming 

1 The  probate  of  the  will  is  at  Somerset  House.  It  is  probable,  from  a 
passage  in  a letter  to  Clarke,  quoted  on  p.  304,  that  be  bad  made  a pre- 
vious will  in  1695. 


542 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


hither.  Your  kindness  makes  me  very  willing  to  see  and 
enjoy  yon,  hut,  at  the  same  time,  it  makes  me  the  more 
cautious  to  disturb  your  business.  However,  since  you 
allow  me  the  liberty,  you  may  be  assured,  if  there  be 
occasion,  I will  send  for  you.”  1 

King  doubtless  paid  several  visits  to  his  cousin  during 
the  next  five  months  before  there  seemed  to  be  special 
occasion  to  send  for  him.  “1  have  received  no  letters 
from  you  since  the  20th,”  Locke  wrote,  however,  on 
Thursday,  the  1st  of  June.  “ I remember  it  is  the  end  of 
a term,  a busy  time  with  you,  and  you  intend  to  be  here 
speedily,  which  is  better  than  writing  at  a distance.  Pray 
be  sure  to  order  your  matters  so  as  to  spend  all  the  next 
week  with  me.  As  far  as  I can  impartially  guess,  it  will 
be  the  last  week  I am  ever  like  to  have  with  you  ; for,  if  I 
mistake  not  very  much,  I have  very  little  time  left  in  the 
world.  This  comfortable,  and  to  me  usually  restorative, 
season  of  the  year  has  no  effect  upon  me  for  the  better. 
On  the  contrary,  my  shortness  of  breath  and  uneasiness 
every  day  increases  ; my  stomach,  without  any  visible 
cause,  sensibly  decays,  so  that  all  appearances  concur  to 
warn  me  that  the  dissolution  of  this  cottage  is  not  far 
off.  Kefuse  not,  therefore,  to  help  me  to  pass  some  of 
the  last  hours  of  my  life  as  easily  as  may  be  in  the  con- 
versation of  one  who  is  not  only  the  nearest  but  the 
dearest  to  me  of  any  man  in  the  world.  I have  a great 
many  things  to  talk  to  you,  which  I can  talk  to  nobody 
else  about.  I therefore  desire  you  again,  deny  not  this 
to  my  affection.  I know  nothing  at  such  a time  so 
desirable  and  so  useful  as  the  conversation  of  a friend 
one  loves  and  relies  on.  It  is  a week  free  from  business, 
or  if  it  were  not,  perhaps  you  would  have  no  reason  to 
1 Lord  King,  p.  261 ; Locke  to  King,  15  Nov.,  1703. 


1704.  1 
jEt.  71.  J 


INCKEASING  ILLNESS 


543 


repent  the  bestowing  a day  or  two  upon  me.  Make 
haste,  therefore,  on  Saturday,  and  he  here  early.  I long 
till  I see  you.  I writ  to  you  in  my  last,  to  bring  some 
cherries  with  you,  but  fear  they  will  be  troublesome  to 
you ; and  these  things  that  entertain  the  senses  have  lost 
with  me  a great  part  of  their  relish.  Therefore,  give  not 
yourself  any  trouble  about  them  ; such  desires  are  usually 
hut  the  fancy  seeking  pleasure  in  one  thing,  when  it  has 
missed  it  in  another,  and  seeks  in  vain  for  the  delight 
which  the  indisposition  of  the  body  has  put  an  end  to. 
When  I have  your  company,  I shall  forget  these  kind  of 
things.”  1 

But  the  end  was  not  quite  so  near  as  he  thought.  In 
spite  of  his  constant  illness,  he  had  spent  the  winter,  as 
his  letters  to  Collins  have  shown  us,  happily  and  cheer- 
fully.2 And  the  summer,  in  spite  of  increasing  weakness, 
was  spent  by  him  as  cheerfully  and  happily. 

Collins  had  been  with  him  early  in  May.  “ I could 
not  have  believed,”  Locke  wrote  some  days  after  his 
departure,  “I  could  have  had  so  many  happy  days  to- 
gether. I shall  always  pray  that  yours  may  be  multiplied. 
Could  I in  the  least  contribute  anything  thereunto,  I 

1 Lord  King,  p.  261  ; Locke  to  King,  1 June,  1704. 

2 In  March  he  had  sent  to  Sloane  the  register  of  the  weather  for  1696, 
which  has  been  already  referred  to ; and  he  intended  to  send  the  register 
for  nine  other  years.  “I  have  often  thought,”  he  said,  “that,  if  such  a 
register  as  this,  or  one  that  were  better  contrived,  with  the  help  of  some 
instruments  that  for  exactness  might  be  added,  were  kept  in  every  county 
in  England  and  so  constantly  published,  many  things  relating  to  the  air, 
winds,  health,  fruitfulness,  etc.,  might  by  a sagacious  man  be  collected 
from  them,  and  several  rules  concerning  the  extent  of  winds  and  rains,  etc., 
he  in  time  established,  to  the  great  advancement  of  mankind.”  ( Philo- 
sophical Transactions,  vol.  xxiv.,  1706,  pp.  1917-37 ; Locke  to  Sloane, 
15  March,  1703-4.)  That  hint  was  borne  in  mind  and  is  now  acted  on  in 
the  barometrical  observations  made  under  government  direction. 


544 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


should  think  myself  happy  in  this  poor  decaying  state  of 
my  health  ; which,  though  it  affords  me  little  in  this 
world  to  enjoy,  yet  I find  the  charms  of  your  company 
make  me  not  feel  the  want  of  strength  or  breath  or  any- 
thing. The  Bishop  of  Gloucester  ” — Dr.  Edward  Fowler 
— “ came  hither  the  day  you  went  from  hence,  and  in  no 
very  good  state  of  health.  I find  two  groaning  people 
make  but  an  uncomfortable  concert.  Enjoy  your  health 
and  youth  whilst  you  have  it,  to  all  the  advantages  and 
improvements  of  an  innocent  and  pleasant  life,  remember- 
ing that  merciless  old  age  is  in  pursuit  of  you,  and,  when 
it  overtakes  you,  will  not  fail,  some  way  or  other,  to 
impair  the  enjoyments  both  of  body  and  mind.  You 
know  how  apt  I am  to  preach.  I believe  it  is  one  of  the 
diseases  of  old  age.  But  my  friends  will  forgive  me 
when  I have  nothing  to  persuade  them  to  but  that  they 
should  endeavour  to  be  as  happy  as  it  is  possible  for  them 
to  he.”  1 

During  Collins’s  last  visit  it  had  been  arranged  that 
Locke,  too  wreak  now  to  walk  or  ride  abroad,  or  even  to 
find  ease  in  Sir  Francis  Masham’s  coach,  should  have  a 
chaise  made  for  him.  Collins  undertook  to  superintend 
the  making  of  it,  and  his  questions  on  the  subject  pro- 
duced many  answers  from  Locke.  “When  you  come  to 
my  age,”  he  said  in  one  letter,  “ you  will  know  that  with 
us  old  fellows  convenient  always  carries  it  before  orna- 
mental. I would  have  as  much  of  the  free  air,  when  I 
go  abroad  in  it,  as  is  possible.  Only  I ask  whether  those 
which  fall  back,  so  as  to  give  as  free  a prospect  behind 
as  before,  be  as  easily  managed  and  brought  over  you 
again  in  case  of  need,  as  in  a shower,  as  one  that  falls 
back  upon  two  standing  corner  pillars  ; and  next,  whether 
1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  306  ; Locke  to  Collins,  19  May,  1704. 


1704.  "I 
-ffit.  71. J 


A NEW  CARRIAGE. 


545 


that  which  falls  back  so  well  doth,  when  it  is  drawn  up 
over  you,  come  so  far  over  your  head  as  to  shelter  it  from 
the  dew,  without  shutting  you  up  from  the  free  open  air. 
For  I think  sometimes,  in  the  evening  of  a warm  day,  to 
sit  abroad  in  it  and  take  the  fresco,  hut  would  have  a 
canopy  over  my  head  to  keep  the  dew  off.  If  this  he  so, 
I am  for  the  flattest.  Most  of  my  time  being  spent  in 
sitting,  I desire  special  care  may  be  taken  in  making  the 
seat  broad  enough,  and  the  two  cushions  soft,  plump, 
and  thick  enough.”1  “My  letter,”  he  wrote  next  day, 
“went  away  without  any  answer  to  one  of  your  demands, 
and  that  was,  whether  I would  have  any  brass  on  the 
harness.  To  which  give  me  leave  to  tell  you  that  in  my 
whole  life  I have  been  constantly  against  anything  that 
makes  a show,  no  maxim  being  more  agreeable  to  my 
condition  and  temper  than  ‘ Qui  bene  latuit  bene  vixit.’ 
I like  to  have  things  substantially  good  of  their  kind,  and 
useful,  and  handsomely  made,  and  fitly  adapted  to  their 
uses.  But,  if  either  were  necessary,  I had  rather  be 
taken  notice  of  for  something  that  is  fashionably  gaudy 
than  ridiculously  uncouth',  or  for  its  poorness  and  mean- 
ness remarkable.  Therefore,  if  you  please,  let  the  harness 
and  the  whole  accoutrements  be  of  as  good  materials 
and  as  handsomely  made  and  put  together  as  may  be ; 
but  for  ornaments  of  brass,  or  any  such  thing,  I desire  it 
may  be  spared.  One  question  more  comes  into  my  mind 
to  ask  you,  and  that  is  whether  the  hack  of  those  that 
fall  down  so  flat  is  so  made  that,  when  it  is  up,  one  may 
lean  and  loll  against  it  at  one’s  ease,  as  in  a coach  or 
chariot ; for  I am  grown  a very  lazy  fellow,  and  have 
now  three  easy  chairs  to  lean  and  loll  in,  and  would  not 
be  without  that  relief  in  my  chaise.  You  see  I am  as 
1 4 Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  309;  Locke  to  Collins,  25  May,  1704. 

Vol.  II. — 35 


546 


LAST  TEAES. 


[Chap.  XV. 


nice  as  a young  fond  girl  that  is  coming  into  the  world 
with  a face  and  a fortune,  as  she  presumes,  to  command  it. 
Let  not  this,  however,  deter  you,  for  I shall  not  be  so 
hard  to  be  pleased.”  1 

Those  letters  were  written  before  the  1st  of  June,  when 
Locke  thought  the  next  week  would  be  his  last.  He 
continued  to  be  in  some  fear — if  it  was  fear — about  him- 
self during  the  month.  At  the  end  of  it  he  wrote  to 
Awnsham  Churchill,  his  publisher  and  friend  of  fourteen 
years’  standing,  who  had  been  kept  away  from  London, 
and  whom  he  desired  to  see  and  settle  some  business 
affairs  with  before  he  died. 

“ Sir, — This  comes  to  meet  you  in  town,  and  to  bid  you  welcome,  for  I 
hope  you  have  been  able  to  make  good  the  hope  you  gave  us  that  you 
would  be  in  town  this  week,  and  that  I may  congratulate  your  safe 
return,  strong  and  trig  as  you  were  before.  I shall  long  to  have  the 
assurance  of  it  from  your  own  hand.  Therefore,  pray  write  me  by  the  first 
post,  and  put  into  your  letter  when  I shall  see  you  here.  I desire  it  may 
be  very  speedily  ; for  I hasten  apace  to  my  journey’s  end,  and  can  count 
upon  but  a very  few  days  in  this  world,  and  have  many  things  to  say 
to  you,  some  whereof  may  concern  your  own  interests.  Do  not  think  I 
aggravate  my  case  to  hasten  you.  When  you  see  me,  you  will  conclude  it 
is  for  the  last  time,  and  that,  if  your  business  had  kept  you  away  a little 
longer,  you  would  have  returned  too  late  to  see  me  at  all. 

“ I am,  sir,  your  most  affectionate  friend  and  humble  servant, 

“ J.  Locke.”  2 

Many  friends  came  down  from  London  and  from  distant 
parts  of  England  to  visit  Locke  in  these  last  months  of  his 
life,  to  show  their  respect  for  him  and  to  carry  away  the 
last  echoes  of  his  gentle  voice,  and  he  seems  rarely  to 
have  been  without  company ; but  the  most  welcome 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  311 ; Locke  to  Collins,  26  May,  1704. 

2 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4207  ; Locke  to  Awnsham  Churchill,  27  June, 
1740. 


1704.  "I 
■ffit.  71.  J 


A NEW  CARRIAGE. 


517 


visitors  of  all  were  his  cousin  Peter  King  and  his  disciple 
Anthony  Collins.  It  had  been  arranged  that  Collins,  as 
soon  as  it  was  ready,  was  to  drive  down  in  the  chaise  that 
he  was  getting  made.  “ If  the  chaise  you  have  had  so 
much  -trouble  about,”  Locke  had  written  to  him  a week 
before  writing  to  Churchill,  “gives  me  as  much  satisfaction 
afterwards  as  it  will  in  the  first  service  I shall  receive 
from  it,  the  conquerors  of  the  world  will  not  ride  in  their 
triumphant  chariots  with  more  pleasure  than  I shall  in 
my  little  tumbril.  It  will  bring  me  what  I prefer  to 
glory.  For  methinks  he  understands  little  of  the  true 
sweetness  of  life  that  doth  not  more  relish  the  conversa- 
tion of  a worthy  and  ingenuous  friend  in  retirement  than 
the  noise  and  rout  of  the  crowd  in  the  streets,  with  all 
their  acclamations  and  huzzas.  I long,  therefore,  that 
the  machine  should  be  despatched,  and  expect  it  as 
greedily  as  a hungry  merchant  doth  a ship  from  the  East 
Indies  that  is  to  bring  him  a rich  cargo.”  1 “ I now  every 
moment  wish  the  chaise  done,”  he  wrote  four  days  later ; 
“ not  out  of  any  impatience  I am  in  for  the  machine,  but 
for  the  man — the  man,  I say,  that  is  to  come  in  it — a man 
that  has  not  his  fellow,  and,  to  all  that,  loves  me.  If  I 
regret  my  old  age,  it  is  you  that  make  me,  and  call  me 
hack  to  the  world  just  as  I was  leaving  of  it,  and  leaving 
it  as  a place  that  has  very  little  valuable  in  it.  But  who 
would  not  be  glad  to  spend  some  years  with  you  ? Make 
haste,  therefore,  and  let  me  engross  what  of  you  I can.”  2 

The  chaise  was  finished,  and  Collins  took  it  to  Oates  at 
the  end  of  July.  “ Whether  that  or  anything  else  will 
be  able  to  add  any  duration  to  my  mouldering  carcase,” 
Locke  wrote  when  he  was  gone,  “ I cannot  say.  But 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  316  ; Locke  to  Collins,  19  .Tune,  1704. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  319;  Locke  to  Collins,  23  June,  1704. 


548 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


this  I am  sure,  your  company  and  kindness  has  added  to 
the  length  of  my  life,  which,  in  my  way  of  measuring, 
doth  not  lie  in  counting  of  minutes,  but  tasting  of  enjoy- 
ments.” 1 

Collins  went  back  to  Oates  for  a few  days  in  the  follow- 
ing week ; and  Locke,  in  his  nest  letter,  mildly  blamed 
him  for  having  merely  assented  to  opinions  he  had  pro- 
pounded to  him,  instead  of  discussing  them.  “ The  use 
of  a friend,”  he  said,  “is  to  persuade  us  to  the  right,  not 
10  suppose  always  that  we  are  in  it.”  2 

In  August  he  addressed  his  last  letter  to  Limborch. 
There  had  not  been  much  correspondence  between  the 
two  friends  during  the  past  two  years.  But  in  June 
Limborch  had  written  to  Locke  to  congratulate  him  on  a 
report  that  his  health  was  better  and  to  express  a hope 
that  he  might  yet  live  some  time  “ to  benefit  the  Christian 
world  by  his  learned  studies.”  “ The  seeds  of  Christian 
harmony  that  you  have  planted,”  he  had  said,  “though 
they  may  now  be  trodden  down  by  the  thankless,  will 
bear  welcome  fruit  to  a grateful  posterity.  Yet,  when  I 
remember  how  slavish  is  the  disposition  of  most  persons, 
and  what  sway  human  authority  has  over  them,  though 
I have  no  doubts  about  the  distant  future,  I cannot 
venture  to  hope  that,  laying  aside  prejudice  and  passion, 
they  will  for  some  time  to  come,  with  sincere  and  honest 
purpose,  balance  the  weight  of  the  reasons  on  which  truth 
rests  for  its  support,  and  frankly  yield  to  truth  alone.”  3 
“ I am  indeed  ashamed  of  my  long  silence,”  Locke  replied, 
to  this  and  to  earlier  letters,  “for  which  my  altogether 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  320  ; Locke  to  Collins,  2 August, 
1704. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  321  ; Locke  to  Collins,  11  August,  1704. 

3 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  534  ; Limborch  to  Locke,  21  June,  1704. 


jEt.°7i.l  a parting  letter  to  limborch.  549 

broken  health  is  not  a sufficient  excuse ; but,  in  addition 
to  this,  my  respect  for  you  has  to  some  extent  hindered 
me  from  writing ; for  why  should  I harass  you,  in  the 
midst  of  your  erudite  pursuits  and  such  literary  intercourse 
as  is  worthy  of  a mind  like  yours,  with  a sick  man’s 
grumblings  and  laboured  words,  showing  too  plainly  that 
the  writer  gasps  for  breath  ? Yet  it  delights  me  to  find 
that  your  affection  follows  your  old  friend  even  to  the 
grave,  enfeebled  as  he  is  by  age  and  disease.  Nothing, 
indeed,  can  be  so  welcome,  nor  do  so  much  to  quicken  a 
languishing  spirit,  as  the  constant  and  ever  fresh  kind- 
ness of  one’s  friends.  This  indeed  can  give  one  pleasure, 
when  everything  else  has  grown  insipid.  Your  letters, 
therefore,  so  full  of  good-will  and  kind  speech  as  they 
are,  have  been  more  refreshing  to  me  than  you  might 
suppose  from  my  silence.  Long  .experience  has  proved 
to  me,  as  you  say,  that  most  men’s  minds  are  slavish  in 
their  reverence  for  human  authority,  and  I have  no  better 
hope  for  the  future  till  the  good  God  is  pleased  to  restore 
the  church  by  the  second  coming  of  his  Son.  Farewell, 
dear  friend.  Greet,  in  my  name,  your  good  wife  and 
daughters  and  all  the  rest  of  our  friends.  May  you  have 
life  and  health  to  render  much  fresh  service  to  religion ! 
All  happiness  attend  you  ! ” 1 

Seven  years  before  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  had  painted 
Locke’s  portrait  for  Molyneux.  In  August  Collins  asked 
that  one  might  be  painted  for  him.  “ Sir  Godfrey,  I doubt 
not,  will  make  it  very  like,”  Locke  said  in  consenting. 
“ If  it  were  possible  for  his  pencil  to  make  it  a speaking 
picture,  it  should  tell  you  every  day  howT  much  I love  and 
esteem  you  and  how  pleased  I am  to  be,  so  much  as  in 
effigy,  near  a person  with  whom  I should  be  glad  to  spend 
1 ‘ Familiar  Letters,’  p.  539  ; Locke  to  Limborch,  4 August,  1704. 


550 


LAST  TEAKS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


an  age  to  come.”  1 Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  accordingly  went 
down  to  Oates,  and  Locke’s  portrait  was  painted,  and 
Lady  Masham’s  as  well,  before  the  middle  of  September.2 

While  that  was  being  done,  Locke  wrote  a very  charac- 
teristic letter  to  Collins,  which  he  endorsed,  “To  be 
delivered  to  him  after  my  decease.”  It  chiefly  had  refer- 
ence to  a clause  in  his  will  which  has  been  specified. 

“ Dear  Sir, — By  my  will  you  will  see  that  I had  some  kindness  for 
Frank  Masham.  And  I knew  no  better  way  to  take  care  of  him  than  to 
put  him,  and  what  I designed  for  him,  into  your  hands  and  management. 
The  knowledge  I have  of  your  virtue  of  all  kinds  secures  the  trust  which, 
by  your  permission,  I have  placed  in  you ; and  the  peculiar  esteem  and 
love  I have  observed  in  the  young  man  for  you  will  dispose  him  to  be  ruled 
and  influenced  by  you,  so  that  of  that  I need  say  nothing. 

“ But  there  is  one  thing  which  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  recommend  to 
your  especial  care  and  memory,  and  that  is  that,  when  the  legacy  which  I 
have  given  you  trustees  for  the  use  of  him  and  his  mother  comes  to  be  put 
into  your  hands,  whether  you  take  it  in  money  or  any  other  securities,  a 
mortgage  which  I have  of  Sir  Francis,  in  the  name  of  my  cousin  King  and 
Mr.  Churchill,  should  be  no  part  of  it.  I know  the  family,  and  foresee  what 
inconveniences  and  disorders  it  will  produce  if  Sir  Francis  should  be  under 
any  such  obligations  to  his  wife  or  children,  which  I think  so  carefully  to  be 
avoided  that,  if  decency  had  not  forbidden  it,  I should  have  put  it  into  my 
will  itself. 

“ The  money  I have  given  you  for  my  lady  and  her  son  I would  have 
always  placed  in  such  hands  where  they  may  at  any  time  freely  call  for  it 
without  scruple  or  offence  and,  if  there  be  need,  sue  for  it.  Fathers  and 
husbands  usually  expect  other  treatment  and  are  disobliged  when  such 
relations  demand  their  due.  Heads  of  families  must  be  forborne  till  they 
please,  and,  if  a wife  or  child  uses  importunities  or  the  assistance  of  the  law 
to  get  from  them  what  they  have  their  hand  and  seal  for,  the  father  com- 
plains of  disrespect  and  injury,  a breach  of  affection  is  made  where  it 
should  be  studiously  avoided,  and  the  foolish  world  generally  joins  in  with 
their  censures  to  widen  and  keep  open  the  breach.  To  prevent  this,  I think 

1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  323 ; Locke  to  Collins,  16  August. 
1704. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  324;  Locke  to  Collins,  11  Sept.,  1704. 


^;°i-2]  A PARTING  LETTER  TO  ANTHONY  COLLINS. 


551 


there  should  be  no  such  transactions  as  borrowing  or  lending  between  such 
persons,  or  securities  pass  from  a father  to  a son,  but  in  cases  that  are  abso- 
lutely necessary.  In  all  other  cases,  where  it  is  at  a man’s  choice  to  put  out 
his  money  upon  security  if  he  thinks  fit,  let  him  take  such  security  as  he 
can  upon  any  occasion  make  use  of,  and  let  the  hand  and  seal  he  has  for  his 
money  be  of  such  a man  as  he  can,  without  restraint,  produce  and  urge 
upon  him  when  there  is  need.  To  what  purpose  else  is  hand  and  seal  ? If 
I use  them  not,  I have  not  my  own  when  I need  it ; and  if  I use  them,  I 
lose  my  quiet  and  reputation,  perhaps  my  father.  But  I have  dwelt  too 
long  on  this  matter.  The  fatal  consequences  I have  seen  in  the  dis- 
turbance of  families,  and  the  ill  effects  it  has  had,  has  made  me  careful  to 
prevent  it  in  one  that  I wish  well  to. 

“ May  you  live  long  and  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  health,  freedom, 
content,  and  all  those  blessings  which  Providence  has  bestowed  on  you  and 
your  virtue  entitles  you  to  I know  you  loved  me  living,  and  will  preserve 
my  memory  now  I am  dead.  All  the  use  to  be  made  of  it  is  that  this  life  is 
a scene  of  vanity  that  soon  passes  away  and  affords  no  solid  satisfaction  but 
in  the  consciousness  of  doing  well  and  in  the  hopes  of  another  life.  This  is 
what  I can  say  upon  experience,  and  what  you  will  find  when  you  come  to 
make  up  the  account.  Adieu.  I leave  my  best  wishes  with  you. 

“John  Locke.”1 

That  was  the  last  letter  from  Locke  received  by  Collins, 
hut  not  quite  the  last  written  to  him. 

The  footsteps  of  death  were  within  hearing  now,  and 
Locke  listened  for  them  and  waited  for  them,  without  a 
sigh,  without  a fear.  The  only  meaning  of  their  sound 
to  him  was  that  he  must  lose  no  time  in  putting  every- 
thing in  order  before  it  was  too  late. 

On  the  5th  of  September  he  added  the  codicil  to  his 
will,  remembering  in  it  a few  friends  and  dependants  who 
had  been  overlooked  in  the  longer  document,  especially 
the  labourers  who  were  to  have  new  clothes  on  the  day  of 
his  burial. 

On  the  11th  he  wrote  to  Collins,  thanking  him  for 
some  small  service  he  had  done  him,  and,  in  one  sentence, 

1 Additional  MSS.,  no.  4290 ; Locke  to  Collins,  23  August,  1704. 


552 


LAST  YEARS. 


LChap.  XV 


which  was  doubtless  true  of  his  friend,  describing  very 
accurately,  though  unintentionally,  a phase  of  his  own 
character.  “ When  one  hears  you  upon  the  principles  of 
knowledge  or  the  foundations  of  government,  one  would 
hardly  imagine  your  thoughts  ever  descended  to  a brush, 
or  a curry-comb,  or  other  such  trumpery  of  life ; and 
yet,  if  one  employ  you  but  to  get  a pair  of  shoe- 
buckles,  you  are  as  ready  and  dexterous  at  it  as  if  the 
whole  business  of  your  life  had  been  with  nothing  but 
shoe-buckles.” 1 

On  the  16th  he  wrote  to  Peter  King.  King’s  wedding, 
talked  of  more  than  a year  before,  had  taken  place  on  the 
10th.  Locke  was  misinformed  as  to  the  day,  but  that  was 
of  small  matter.  Always  as  kind-hearted  as  he  was  wise, 
he  could  be  merry  on  occasion,  though  the  sound  of  the 
footsteps  was  growing  louder  every  day  ; and  he  was  merry 
now,  on  what  he  supposed  to  be  the  day  of  his  cousin’s 
marriage.  “ I am  just  rose  from  dinner,”  he  said,  “where 
the  bride’s  and  bridegroom’s  health  was  heartily  drank 
again  and  again,  with  wishes  that  this  day  may  be  the 
beginning  of  a very  happy  life  to  them  both.  We  hope 
we  have  hit  the  time  right.  If  not,  it  is  your  fault  who 
have  misled  us.”  “I  desire  you,”  he  continued,  “ to  bring 
me  down  twenty  guineas.  The  wooden  standish  and  the 
‘ Turkish  Travels  ’ of  the  Exeter  man  I know  you  will 
not  forget.  But  there  are  other  things  of  more  importance 
on  this  occasion  which  you  ought  not  to  omit.”  Then 
followed  a wonderful  list  of  dainties,  required  for  a great 
feast  to  be  given  at  Oates  in  honour  of  the  wedding,  when 
the  young  wife  was  to  be  brought  down  by  her  husband 
and  her  father  to  visit  the  dying  man  with  the  buoyant 
heart.  “ Four  neats’  tongues.  Twelve  partridges,  that 
1 ‘ Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’ p.  324  ; Locke  to  Collins,  11  Sept.,  1704. 


^2.J  PETEE  KING’S  WEDDING  FEAST.  553 

are  fresli,  and  w7ill  bear  the  carriage,  and  will  keep  a day 
after  they  are  here.  Four  pheasants.  The  same  I said 
of  the  partridges  I say  of  the  pheasants.  Four  turkey 
pullets,  ready  larded,  if  they  be  not  out  of  season.  Four 
fresh  rabbits,  if  they  are  to  be  got.  Plovers,  or  wood- 
cocks, or  snipes,  or  whatever  else  is  good  to  be  got  at  the 
poulterer’s,  except  ordinary  tame  fowls.  Twelve  Chi- 
chester male  lobsters,  if  they  can  be  got  alive  ; if  not, 
six  dead  ones  that  are  sweet.  Two  large  crabs  that  are 
fresh.  Crawfish  and  prawns,  if  they  are  to  be  got.  A 
double  barrel  of  the  best  Colchester  oysters.  I have  writ 
to  John  Gray  to  offer  you  his  service.  He  was  bred  up 
in  my  Lord  Shaftesbury’s  kitchen,  and  was  my  lady- 
dowager’s  cook.  I got  him  to  be  messenger  to  the  council 
of  trade  and  plantations,  and  have  often  employed  him 
when  I have  had  occasion,  when  I have  found  him  diligent 
and  useful.  I desire  you  also  to  lay  out  between  twenty 
and  thirty  shillings  in  dried  sweetmeats  of  several  kinds, 
such  as  some  woman  skilled  in  these  matters  shall  choose 
as  fit  and  fashionable,  excepting  orange  and  lemon-peel 
candied,  of  which  we  are  provided.  Let  them  be  good 
of  the  kind,  and  do  not  be  sparing  in  the  cost,  but  rather 
exceed  thirty  shillings.  These  things  you  must  take  care 
to  bring  with  you,  that  I may,  on  this  short  warning, 
have  something  to  entertain  your  friends,  and  may  not  be 
out  of  countenance  while  they  are  here.  If  there  be  any- 
thing that  you  can  find  your  wife  loves,  be  sure  that  pro- 
vision be  made  of  that,  and  plentifully,  whether  I have 
mentioned  it  or  no.  Pray  let  there  be  a pound  of  pis- 
tachios, and  some  China  oranges,  if  there  be  any  come 
in.”  1 

On  the  17th  he  wrote  again  to  Peter  King.  “ Though 

1 Lord  Campbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  560;  Locke  to  King,  16  Sept.,  1704. 


554 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Ciiap.  XV. 


I writ  to  you  yesterday,  yet,  understanding  by  yours  of 
the  10th  that  the  business  is  complete,  at  which  I rejoice, 
I cannot  but  write  to  you  to-day  to  wish  you  and  my 
cousin,  your  wife,  joy.  To  her  pray  give  my  hearty 
service.  I expected  no  more  in  your  letter  than  you 
writ— it  was  enough  for  a man  on  his  wedding  day — and 
therefore  I hope,  though  you  say  nothing,  that  you  have 
prepared  my  present  of  a toilet  furniture  for  my  cousin, 
your  wife,  and  will  give  it  her  from  me  before  you  come 
out  of  town  ; else  I shall  complain  to  her  of  you  when  I 
see  her.”  Then  follow  minute  directions  about  the 
choosing  and  packing  of  the  provisions  specified  in  the 
former  letter  and  of  anything  else  that  might  be  added,  and 
a request  that  John  Gray  should  he  directed  to  make  the 
best  use  of  his  judgment  and  good  taste  in  drawing  a bill 
of  fare  for  a dinner  at  which  eight  were  to  sit  down.  “ I 
shall  be  glad,”  he  added,  “to  bid  you  and  my  cousin, 
your  wife,  joy.” 1 “ My  cousin,  your  wife,”  was  evidently 

a phrase  that  Locke  took  pleasure  in  repeating. 

The  newly  married  couple  and  the  bride’s  father  went 
down  to  Oates  as  soon  as  the  arrangements  for  the  banquet 
were  complete,  and  the  banquet  was  given  on  one  of  the 
last  days  of  the  month.  We  must  think  of  Locke,  now 
seventy-two,  and  many  years  older  than  his  age  by  reason 
of  his  long  infirmities,  sitting  at  the  head  of  the  table  in 
the  dining-parlour  of  the  old  Essex  mansion,  with  Anne 
King  on  one  side  and  Esther  Masham  on  the  other,  Lady 
Masham  opposite  to  him,  and  Sir  Francis,  Frank  Masham, 
and  Richard  Seyes  to  complete  the  circle.  One  other  per- 
son was  wished  for,  but  there  was  no  room  for  him.  “ To 
complete  the  satisfaction  I have  lately  had  here,”  Locke 
wrote  to  Collins,  on  the  1st  of  October,  after  the  wedding 
1 Lord  Campbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  562;  Locke  to  King,  17  Sept.,  1704. 


^t7072.]  A PARTING  LETTER  TO  PETER  KING.  555 

party  had  left,  “ there  has  been  nothing  wanting  hut  your 
company.  The  coming  of  his  father-in-law,  joined  with 
the  straitness  of  the  lodging  in  this  house,  hindered  me 
from  having  my  cousin  King  and  you  together,  and  so  cut 
off  one  part  of  the  enjoyment  which  you  know  is  very 
valuable  to  me.  I must  leave  it  to  your  kindness  and 
charity  to  make  up  this  loss  to  me.  How  far  the  good 
company  I have  had  here  has  been  able  to  raise  me  into 
a forgetfulness  of  the  decays  of  age  and  the  uneasiness 
of  my  indisposition,  my  cousin  King  is  judge ; but  this, 
I believe,  he  will  assure  you,  that  my  infirmities  prevail 
so  fast  on  me  that,  unless  you  make  haste  hither,  I 
may  lose  the  satisfaction  of  ever  seeing  again  a man  that 
I value  in  the  first  rank  of  those  that  I leave  behind 
me.”1 

On  the  4th  of  October  he  wrote  to  King  a letter  of  like 
nature  to  that  which  he  had  addressed  to  Collins,  and  like 
it  not  to  be  delivered  till  he  was  dead.  “ That  you  will 
faithfully  execute  all  you  find  in  my  will  I cannot  doubt, 
my  dear  cousin,  nor  can  I less  depend  upon  your  following 
my  directions  and  complying  with  my  desires  in  things 
not  fit  to  be  put  into  so  solemn  and  public  a writing.” 
The  directions  and  desires,  minutely  expressed,  had  to 
do  with  the  publication  of  those  manuscripts  which  he 
thought  fit  to  be  given  to  the  world,  the  payment  of 
his  many  legacies  and  the  arrangement  of  other  affairs. 
“ Kemember,”  he  added  with  the  solemnity  of  a dying 
man’s  utterance,  “it  is  my  earnest  request  to  you  to  take 
care  of  the  youngest  son  of  Sir  Francis  and  Lady  Masham, 
in  all  his  concerns,  as  if  he  were  your  brother.  He  has 
never  failed  to  pay  me  all  the  respect  and  do  me  all  the 
good  offices  he  was  capable  of  performing,  with  all  manner 
1 ‘Collection  of  Several  Pieces,’  p.  326  j Locke  to  Collins,  1 Oct.,  1704. 


556 


LAST  YEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


of  cheerfulness  and  delight,  so  that  I cannot  acknowledge 
it  too  much.  I must  therefore  desire  you,  and  leave  it  as 
a charge  upon  you,  to  help  me  to  do  it  when  I am  gone. 
Take  care  to  make  him  a good,  an  honest,  and  an  upright 
man.  I have  left  my  directions  with  him  to  follow  your 
advice ; and  I knowT  he  will  do  it ; for  he  never  refused  to 
do  what  I told  him  was  fit.  If  he  had  been  my  own  son, 
he  could  not  have  been  more  careful  to  please  and  observe 
me.”  The  last  words  and  the  last  thoughts  were  for 
King  himself.  “I  wish  you  all  manner  of  prosperity  in 
this  world  and  the  everlasting  happiness  of  the  world  to 
come.  That  I loved  you,  I think  you  are  convinced. 
God  send  us  a happy  meeting  in  the  resurrection  of  the 
just ! Adieu  ! ” 1 

That  seems  to  have  been  the  last  letter  written  by 
Locke.  He  was  so  weak  now  that  he  found  it  very  diffi- 
cult to  use  his  pen.  But  he  could  talk,  if  only  in  a feeble 
voice,  as  brightly  and  kindly  and  wisely  as  ever.  “ All 
the  faculties  of  his  mind  were  perfect  to  the  last,”  said 
Lady  Masham ; “but  his  weakness,  of  which  only  he 
died,  made  such  gradual  and  visible  advances  that  few 
people,  I think,  do  so  sensibly  see  death  approach  them 
as  he  did.  During  all  which  time  no  one  could  observe 
the  least  alteration  in  his  humour,  always  cheerful,  civil, 
conversible,  to  the  last  day ; thoughtful  of  all  the  con- 
cerns of  his  friends,  and  omitting  no  fit  occasion  of  giving 
Christian  advice  to  all  about  him.”  2 

A few  weeks  before  his  death,  probably  during  the 
wedding  festivities  in  which  he  took  such  a leading  part, 
his  friends  expressed  surprise  that  he  could  be  so  cheerful 

1 Lord  Campbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  562 ; Locke  to  King,  4 Oct.,  1704. 

2 Chalmers,  ‘Biographical  Dictionary,’  vol.  xx.,  p.  369;  Lady  Masham 
to  Richard  Laughton  (tutor  of  Clare  Hall,  Cambridge),  8 Nov.,  1704. 


1704.  1 
■ffit.  72.  J 


LAST  DAYS. 


557 


and  full  of  humour.  “ While  we  are  alive,  let  us  live,” 
lie  answered.1 

He  could  no  longer  be  driven  out  in  the  easy  carriage 
that  Collins  bad  brought  down  for  bim.  He  bad  to  be 
moved  about  bom  room  to  room,  or  out  into  tbe  garden, 
in  a well-cusbioned  arm-cbair.  One  bright  warm  day  in 
October  be  spent  many  hours  thus  in  tbe  garden,  having 
tbe  cham  shifted  from  time  to  time,  so  that  he  might 
always  be  in  the  sunshine.  His  friends  were  sitting  with 
bim,  and  Pierre  Coste,  Frank  Masbam’s  tutor,  chanced 
to  quote  tbe  lines  of  Horace — 

“ Solibus  aptum ; 

Irasci  celerem,  tamen  ut  placabilis  essem.” 

“ Ah,”  exclaimed  Locke,  “ I am  like  Horace  in  both  those 
things.  I love  tbe  warmth  of  tbe  sun,  and,  though  I am 
prone  to  be  angry,  my  hot  temper  soon  goes  down.”  2 

As  be  bad  not  been  to  church  for  many  months,  bis 
friends  suggested  that  be  should  be  visited  by  tbe  clergy- 
man of  High  Laver.  Tbe  bread  and  tbe  wine  were  tasted 
for  tbe  last  time  in  remembrance  of  tbe  life  and  work 
by  which,  according  to  Locke’s  simple  Christianity,  tbe 
Messiah  of  G-od  bad  enabled  all  who  lead  good  lives,  and 
do  honest  work,  and  recognise  bis  kingship,  to  pass  from 
tbe  lingering  death  of  this  world  into  an  immortality  of 
unalloyed  happiness.  “ I am  in  perfect  charity  with  all 
men,”  Locke  said  when  tbe  little  supper  was  over,  “ and 
in  sincere  communion  with  tbe  whole  church  of  Christ, 
by  whatever  names  Christ’s  followers  call  themselves.” 3 

All  through  the  summer  he  had  been  troubled  with 

1 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge.’ 

2 Coste’s  letter  in  ‘ Les  Nouvellesde  la  Republique  desLettres’  (February, 
1705),  p.  154. 

3 Le  Clerc,  ‘ Eloge.’ 


558 


LAST  YE  AES. 


[Chap.  XY. 


swelling  of  the  legs,  and  this  sure  sign  of  the  approach 
of  death  increased  towards  the  end  of  October.  During 
many  days  he  could  do  no  more  than  be  carried  in  his 
easy  chair  from  his  bedroom  into  his  study.1 

Lady  Masham  sought  him  there  on  the  morning  of  the 
27th,  and,  not  finding  him,  went  to  his  chamber.  He 
told  her  that  he  was  too  weak  to  rise,  and  could  not  handle 
his  clothes ; that  he  had  wearied  himself  too  much  the 
day  before,  and  should  lie  abed  that  day  ; that  he  did  not 
think  he  should  ever  rise  again.  He  could  eat  nothing. 
After  dinner  Lady  Masham  and  some  others  of  the  family 
sat  with  him  and  offered  to  read  to  him.  They  read  a 
little,  but  he  was  too  faint  to  listen  to  what  they  read. 
“ My  work  here  is  almost  at  an  end,”  he  said,  about  five 
o’clock,  “ and  I thank  God  for  it.  I may  perhaps  die 
to-night ; but  I cannot  live  above  three  or  four  days. 
Remember  me  in  your  evening  prayers.”  Lady  Masham 
proposed  that  the  family  should  assemble  in  his  chamber 
and  pray  beside  him  and  for  him.  He  answered  that  he 
should  be  very  glad  to  have  it  so,  if  it  would  not  give  too 
much  trouble.  Soon  afterwards  he  felt  better,  and  asked 
for  a little  mum,  the  strong  beer  of  Brunswick.  Lady 
Masham  helped  him  to  some  spoonfuls  of  it,  with  which 
he  drank  the  health  of  all  the  friends  around  him,  wishing 
all  of  them  happiness  when  he  was  gone.  He  then  re- 
peated, with  some  fresh  things  that  occurred  to  him,  what 
he  had  said  before  about  the  disposal  of  his  body,  after 
he  had  done  with  it,  and  of  various  little  properties  that 
were  more  durable  and,  because  they  reminded  him  of 

1 Miss  Palmer  has  in  her  possession  a chair,  brought  from  Oates,  which 
tradition  asserts  to  be  the  one  in  which  Locke  died.  He  did  not  die  in  an 
easy  chair,  but  this  was  doubtless  one  of  the  three  that  Locke  told  Collins 
he  had  “ to  lean  and  loll  in.” 


1704.  T 
■fit.  72.  J 


LAST  HOUES. 


559 


those  he  loved,  dearer  to  him  than  his  body.  Lady 
Masham  sat  alone  with  him  through  the  evening,  and  he 
was  able  to  talk  much  with  her ; but  especially  he  exhorted 
her  “ to  look  on  this  world  only  as  a state  of  preparation 
for  a better.”  “ As  for  me,”  he  said,  “ I have  lived  long 
enough,  and  I thank  God  I have  enjoyed  a happy  life; 
but,  after  all,  this  life  is  nothing  but  vanity.”  After  the 
family  prayers  had  been  offered  up  in  his  chamber,  as  had 
been  arranged,  he  charged  all  present  to  read  the  holy 
scriptures  attentively,  and,  by  their  light,  to  apply  them- 
selves sincerely  to  the  practice  of  all  their  duties.  “ By 
this  means,”  he  said,  “you  will  make  yourselves  more 
happy  in  this  world,  and  secure  for  yourselves  eternal 
happiness  in  the  other.”  “ I heartily  thank  God,”  he 
repeated,  “ for  all  his  goodness  and  mercies  to  me,  but 
above  all  for  his  redemption  of  me  by  Jesus  Christ.”  It 
was  nearly  midnight  before  the  little  company  dispersed. 
Lady  Masham  begged  that  she  might  watch  beside  him 
through  the  night,  but  he  would  not  let  her.  He  said  he 
felt  better,  that  perhaps  he  should  sleep,  and  that,  if  there 
were  any  change,  he  should  send  for  her.1 

He  had  no  sleep  that  night.  Next  morning,  the 
morning  of  the  28th  of  October,  he  said  he  should  like 
to  rise.  They  wrapped  a shawl  round  him  and  carried 
him  into  his  study.  There,  in  his  easy  chair,  he 
dozed  during  some  horns,  and  then,  rousing  up,  asked 
for  a little  table  beer,  and  was  so  much  revived  by  that 
that  he  resolved  to  be  dressed.  Lady  Masham  had  been 
sitting  beside  him,  seeking  comfort  in  her  heavy  sorrow 

1 Lady  Masham’s  and  Pierre  Coste’s  letters,  already  cited  : Le  Clerc’s 
‘Eloge  : ’ and  Additional  MSS.,  no.  4311,  p.  143  ; Esther  Masham  to  Mrs. 
Smith,  17  Nov.,  1704.  These  are  also  my  authorities  for  the  details  in  the 
next  two  paragraphs. 


560 


LAST  TEARS. 


[Chap.  XV. 


by  reading  in  the  Psalms.  He  asked  her  to  read  aloud 
while  he  was  being  dressed.  She  did  that,  and  it  cheered 
him,  and  the  reading  went  on  till,  at  about  three  o’clock, 
he  began  to  be  restless.  He  found  it  necessary  to  change 
his  seat.  Presently  he  raised  his  hands  to  his  eyes,  and 
closed  them,  and  all  was  over. 

“ His  death  was  like  his  life,”  said  Lady  Masham  in 
one  of  the  pathetic  letters  that  she  wrote  in  the  ensuing 
weeks  during  which  she  walked  about  the  house  dis- 
consolate, her  mind  wandering,  and  able  only  to  think 
coherently  upon  the  one  subject  that  had  filled  it  with 
such  grief;  “ his  death  was  like  his  life,  truly  pious,  yet 
natural,  easy  and  unaffected ; nor  can  time,  I think,  ever 
produce  a more  eminent  example  of  reason  and  religion 
than  he  was,  living  and  dying.” 

They  buried  him,  as  he  had  bidden,  in  a plain  wooden 
coffin,  without  cloth  or  velvet,  on  the  sunny  side  of  the 
parish  church  of  High  Laver,  and  there,  now  and  then, 
some  stray  pilgrim  goes  to  visit  the  spot  where  was  lodged 
all  that  could  die  of  the  great  teacher  and  the  good  man, 
and  to  read  upon  his  tomb  the  beautiful  epitaph  that  he 
had  penned  for  himself : “ Stay,  traveller  : near  this  place 
lies  John  Locke.  If  you  ask  what  sort  of  man  he  was, 
the  answer  is  that  he  was  contented  with  his  modest 
lot.  Bred  a scholar,  he  used  his  studies  to  devote  himself 
to  truth  alone.  This  you  may  learn  from  his  writings ; 
which  will  show  you  anything  else  that  is  to  be  said 
about  him  more  faithfully  than  the  doubtful  eulogies  of 
an  epitaph.  His  virtues,  if  he  had  any,  were  too  slight  for 
him  to  offer  them  to  his  own  credit  or  as  an  example 
to  you.  Let  his  vices  be  buried  with  him.  Of  good  life, 
you  have  an  example,  should  you  desire  it,  in  the  gospel ; 


1704.  "I 
•St.  72.  J 


DEATH  AND  BURIAL. 


561 


of  vice,  would  there  were  none  for  you ; of  mortality, 
surely  (and  may  you  profit  by  it)  you  have  one  here  and 
everywhere.  That  he  was  born  on  the  29th  of  August  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord  1632,  and  that  he  died  on  the  28th 
of  October  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1704,  this  tablet,  which 
itself  will  quickly  perish,  is  a record.”  In  his  own  Latin, 
with  the  dates  supplied  : — 

Siste  Viator , 

Hie  juxta  situs  est  Johannes  Locke.  Si 
quails  fuerit  rogas,  mediocritate  sua 
contentum  se  vixisse  respondet.  Literis 
innutritus  eousque  tantum  profecit , ut 
veritati  unice  litaret.  Hoc  ex  scriptis 
illius  disce ; quae  quod  de  eo  reliquum 
est  majori  fide  tibi  exliibebunt  quam 
epiiaphii  suspect  a elogia.  Virtutes  si  quas 
Jiabuit , minores  sane  quam  quas  sibi 
laudi  tibi  in  exemplum  proponeret.  Vitia 
una  sepeliantur.  Morum  exemplum  si 
quaeras  in  Hvangelio  habes : vitiorum 
utinam  nusquam  : mortalitatis  certe  {quod 
prosit ) hie  et  ubique. 

Natum  Anno  Horn.  1632  Aug.  29°. 
Mortuum  Anno  Horn.  1704  Oct  28°. 
Memorat  haec  tabula  brevi  et  ipse 
interitura. 


Vol.  II. — 36 


/ 


INDEX 


Aigues  Mortes,  Locke  at,  i.,  344. 

Albemarle,  Duke  of,  i.,  236. 

Alford,  John,  Locke’s  letter  to,  i.,  133. 

Alkmaar,  Locke  at,  ii.,  9. 

Allestree,  Dr.  Richard,  i. , 210,  319. 

Allestree,  William,  i.,  319 ; his  letters  to 
Locke,  i.,  320—326. 

Alsford,  in  Kent,  Locke  at,  i.,  439. 

Ambergris,  i.,  327. 

Amsterdam,  Locke  at,  in  1683,  ii.,  6 ; in 
1684,  ii..  6,  8,  9,  14,  16,  17;  in  1686,  ii., 
22—27,  34—41;  in  1686,  ii.,  42— 47,  63; 
in  1687,  ii.,  63—67,  70—72;  in  1688,  ii., 
73. 

Angers,  Locke  at,  i.,  400. 

Appropriation  clauses,  origin  of,  1665,  i., 
98. 

Argyle,  Earl  of,  i.,  481. 

Arlington,  Earl  of,  i.,  95 — 98,  101,  272. 

Arminius,  ii.,  6,  15. 

Arnauld,  Antoine,  i.,  294. 

Ashley,  Lord  and  Lady  ; see  Shaftesbury. 

Avignon,  Locke  at,  i.,  343,  347. 

Baber,  Francis,  i.,  5. 

Bacon,  Lord,  i.,  45,  62,  64,  69,  92. 

Bahamas,  Locke’s  share  in  the  coloniza- 
tion of,  and  connection  with,  i.,  289 — 
293,  355. 

Bank  of  England,  Locke’s  share  in,  ii., 
295,  296. 

Banks,  Sir  John,  i.,  365,  367,  378;  his 
son,  Locke’s  pupil,  i.,  365,  367,  374.  378, 
397. 

Barrow,  Isaac,  i.,  212,  214  ; Locke’s  friend- 
ship with,  i.,  310,  371. 

Basingstoke,  Locke  at,  i.,  438. 

Baxter,  Richard,  i.,  275,  309,  456. 

Bayle,  Pierre,  ii.,  43,  44,  507,  530  n. 

Beavis,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  i.,  259,  260,  433, 
434,  447. 

Bellamont,  Earl  of,  ii.,  162. 

Belvoir  Castle,  Lincolnshire,  Locke  at,  i., 
204. 


Bennet,  Henry ; see  Arlington,  Earl  of. 

Bennet,  , a member  of  Lord  Shaftes- 

bury’s family,  and  Locke’s  friend,  i., 
141. 

Berkeley,  Bishop,  ii.,  278. 

Berkeley,  Lord,  i.,  236. 

Berkeley,  Sir  William,  i.,  236. 

Bernier,  Francois,  Locke’s  friendship  with, 
i„  376. 

Bexwells.  in  Essex,  Locke  at,  i.,  425,  429. 

Biddle,  John,  i.,  311. 

Birch,  Elizabeth,  i.,  423,  424,  432,  471, 
473. 

Blois,  Locke  at,  i.,  398. 

Blomer,  Mrs.,  i.,  258,  267,  269 ; Locke’s 
relations  with,  i.,  256,  257,  262,  316, 
316;  her  letters  to  Locke,  i.,  253,  261 
—263,  265,  266,  314,  315. 

Blomer,  Thomas,  at  Westminster  School 
with  Locke,  i.,  19  n.,  257  ; their  ac- 
quaintance afterwards,  i.,  256,  257,  266, 
267,  269,  314,  316. 

Bolde,  Samuel,  ii.,  408,  438  n.;  his  de- 
fence of  Locke’s  view  of  Christianity, 
ii.,  408,  and  of  his  ‘ Essay,’ ii.,  438 ; his 
relations  with  Locke,  ii.,  472 — 475,  520. 

Bonville,  John,  Locke’s  cousin,  ii.,  246  n., 
450,540. 

Bordeaux,  Locke  at,  i.,  366,  400 — 402. 

Boyle,  Robert,  89  n.,  93,  127  n.,  218,  245, 
306,  318  ; ii.,  62  ; Locke’s  friendship 
with,  i.,  133,  425,  427,  435,  456 ; ii.,  223, 
224  ; Locke’s  letters  to,  i.,  103, 118,  125, 
132,  133,  135,  200,  367,  368,  386,  398  ; 
his  death,  ii.,223,  232;  Locke’s  reviews 
of  his  books,  ii.,  44,  45  n. ; Locke’s 
editing  of  his  ‘ History  of  the  Air,  ’ i., 
225,  232. 

Bracken,  Rachel,  ii..  453. 

Brathwayte,  William,  ii.,  352,  358. 

Breda,  Treaty  of,  i.,  273. 

Biidgewater,  Earl  of,  ii.,  352. 

Briolay  de  Beaupreau,  the  Abb6  de, 
Locke’s  correspondence  with,  i..  201  n. 


INDEX. 


563 


Brisbane,  John,  Locke’s  friendship  with, 
i„  409,  417,  430,  440,  444. 

Brownover,  Sylvanus,  ii.,  352. 

Bruno,  Giordano,  i.,  64. 

Buckingham,  George,  Duke  of,  Locke’s 
reproof  of,  i.,  201 ; Dryden’s  satire  on, 

1.,  271  ; his  political  action,  i.,  271,  272, 
275. 

Burnet,  Gilbert,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  i., 
417 ; ii.,  50  «.,  66  ; Locke’s  relations 
with,  ii.,  150,  155,  249  ; his  remarks  on 
Locke’s  controversy  with  Stillingfleet, 

11.,  437. 

Burnet,  Thomas,  ii.,  61,  439. 

Burridge,  Richard,  ii.,  274,  441,  467. 

Bury,  Arthur,  his  1 Naked  Gospel,’  ii.,  404, 
406,  407. 

Busby,  Richard,  Locke’s  schoolmaster  at 
Westminster,  i.,  19,  50. 

Butler,  Samuel,  ‘ Satire  on  the  Royal 
Society,’  i.,  247  ; ‘ Hudibras,’  i.,  441. 

Cabal,  the,  i.,  272. 

Calais,  Locke  at,  in  1672,  i.,  268  ; in  1675, 

1.,  338  ; in  1679,  i.,  408. 

Calverley,  Lady,  ii.,  511,  512. 

Cambridge,  Locke  at,  ii.,  238. 

Carolina,  Locke’s  share  in  the  planting 

of.  i.,  236—245,  287—289,  293. 

Carteret,  Sir  George,  i.,  236,  286. 

Cary,  John,  Locke’s  friendship  -with,  ii., 
342,  343,  376,  391. 

Cette,  Locke  at,  i.,  344. 

Charles  the  Second’s  “ dispensation  for  Mr. 
Locke,”  i.,  131. 

Charleton,  William,  Locke’s  acquaintance 
with,  ii.,  64 ; Locke’s  letters  to,  ii.,  65, 
67. 

Child,  Sir  Josiah,  ii.,  188,  190. 
Chillingworth,  William,  his  influence  on 
Locke,  i.,  77,  169,  170. 

Churchill.  Awnsham.  ii.,  239,  354,  471, 
480,  489,  493,  540,  546. 

Clarendon,  Earl  of,  i.,  96,  98,  101,  236, 
272  ; his  recommendation  for  granting 
the  M.D.  degree  to  Locke,  i.,  130,  209. 
Clarke,  Edward,  of  Chipley,  Locke’s 
friendship  with,  ii.,  59,  162,  233,  234, 
239,  240,  245—248.  250—252,  253,  255, 
301,  304,  305,  307,  309,  316,  324,  340— 
342,  344,  345,  479—483,  486,  487,  512, 
613,  540. 

Clarke,  Elizabeth,  his  daughter,  Locke’s 
“wife,”  ii.,  233,  247,  250.  252.  302,  462, 
479,  480,  486,  512,  513,  538,  540. 

Clarke,  Mrs.,  ii.,  246,  250. 

Clarke,  Dr.  Timothy,  i.,  201  n. 

Clayton,  Henry,  Locke’s  pupil,  i.,  87. 
Clayton,  Dr.  James,  i.,  129. 


Clericus  ; see  Le  Clerc,  Jean. 

Cleve,  Locke’s  visit  to,  in  1665,  i.,  103 — 
121  ; in  1685,  ii.,  24,  25,  27—34. 

Clifford,  Lord,  i.,  272,  277,  283. 

Cole,  Thomas,  Locke  s tutor  at  Oxford,  i., 
41,  42. 

Colleton,  Sir  John,  i.,  236. 

Colleton,  Sir  Peter,  i.,  287 ; his  corre- 
spondence with  Locke,  i.,  244,  288,  292, 
326,  433. 

Collier,  Rebecca,  Locke’s  visit  and  letter 
to,  ii.,  453. 

Collins,  Anthony,  ii.,  517  ; Locke’s  friend- 
ship and  correspondence  with,  ii.,  518 
—523,  540,  543  -548,  550—552,  554. 

Comprehension  bill  of  1689,  ii.,  150,  152, 
158. 

Conant,  Dr.  John,  i.,  78. 

Conventicle  act  of  1664,  i.,  99,  275  ; of 
1670.  i.,  275. 

Corporation  act  of  1661,  i.,  96. 

Coste.  Pierre,  Locke’s  relations  with,  ii., 
440,  461,  476  ; his  account  of  Locke,  ii., 
530  ».,  531,  534,  538,  557  ; his  transla- 
tion of  Locke’s  writings  into  French, 

ii.,  440. 

Courten,  William  ; see  Charleton. 

Covell,  Dr.  John,  ii.,  413  n. ; Locke’s  re- 
lations with,  ii.,  413 — 415,  481. 

Coventry,  Sir  William,  i.,  101. 

Cox,  Dr.  Thomas,  i.,  213,  218. 

Craven,  Lord,  i. , 236. 

Crosse,  Joshua,  i.,  55. 

Cudworth,  Damaris  ; see  Masham,  Lady. 

Cudworth,  Mrs.,  ii.,  214,  233,  234,  247,  306. 

Cudworth,  Ralph,  i.,  77, 170,  310,  474, 477 ; 

ii.,  8,  212,  214,  228. 

Cudworth,  Thomas,  i.,  474  ; ii.,  251  ; 
Locke’s  letter  to,  i.,  474,  478. 


Daranda.  Paul,  ii.,  205  n.,  355. 

Descartes,  i.,  63,  64.  299, 301 ; ii.,  15.  92  n. ; 
influence  of  his  example  and  teaching 
on  Locke,  i..  47,  55,  61,  62,  65 — 69,  71, 
92,  196. 

Deventer,  Locke  at,  ii.,  14. 

Digby,  Lord,  i.,  335. 

Dispensing  bill  of  1663,  i..  96. 

Dolben,  John,  bishop  of  Rochester,  his 
opposition  to  Locke,  i.,  216. 

Doleman,  Mary,  Locke’s  bequest  to,  ii., 
640. 

“ Dor,”  Locke’s  letter  to,  i.,  251.  252. 

Dorset  Court,  Locke  at,  ii.,  201,  211,  213, 
240. 

Dover,  secret  and  mock  treaties  of,  i,, 
273, '276,  278. 

Downing,  Sir  George,  ii.,  20. 


564 


INDEX, 


Dryden,  John,  at  school  with  Locke,  i., 
19  m.  ; his  satire  on  the  first  Earl  of 
Shaftesbury,  i.,  137,  421 ; on  the  second 
Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  i. , 205  ; on  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  i.,  271. 

Edwards,  John,  Locke’s  controversy  with, 

11.,  290—292,  407—415. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  Locke’s  praise  of,  ii., 
318,  320,  322,  324. 

Enkhuizen,  Locke  at,  ii.,  10. 

Ent,  Sir  George,  i.,  201  n. 

Episcopius,  ii.,  7. 

Essex,  Arthur  Capel.  Earl  of,  i.,  259  ; ii.,  3. 
Evelyn,  John,  i.,  21,  204,  285;  ii.,  64  n., 
272,  477. 

Exchequer,  stop  of  the,  i.,  276  ; ii.,  188. 
Exeter  House,  Strand,  Locke  at,  i.,  143, 
199,  201,  203,  205,  208,  220,  229,  238, 
248,  265,  268,  291. 

Fell,  John,  dean  of  Christ  Church  and 
bishop  of  Oxford,  i.,  76,  88,  97,  130; 
Lord  Ashley’s  letter  to,  respecting 
Locke’s  M.D.  degree  and  medical- 
studentship,  i.,  209,  210;  his  share  in 
Locke’s  expulsion  from  Christ  Church, 

1.,  483—486;  his  letters  to  Locke,  i., 
336,  436. 

Fell,  Samuel,  dean  of  Christ  Church,  i.,  27. 
Fergusson,  Robert,  i.,  471. 

Filmer,  Sir  Robert,  ii.,  166;  Locke’s  an- 
swer to  his  ‘ Patriarcha,’  ii.,  165,  167 — 
169. 

Fire  of  London,  the  great,  i.,  128  n. 
Firman,  Thomas,  i.  310,  311 ; ii.,  355, 
376,  391,  405;  Locke’s  friendship  with, 

1.,  269,  310;  ii.,  239,  240. 

Five  mile  act  of  1665,  i.,  99. 

Fletcher  of  Saltoun,  i.,  481. 
Fontainebleau,  Locke’s  visit  to,  i. , 380. 
Fowler,  Edward,  bishop  of  Gloucester, 

11.,  544. 

Francker,  Locke  at.  ii.,  11. 

Freke,  John,  Locke’s  acquaintance  with, 
ii.,  160,  239,  240,  295,  305. 

Furly,  Arent,  Locke’s  friendship  for,  ii., 
64.  74,  508,  509. 

Furly.  Benjamin,  ii.,  58 ; Locke’s  relations 
with,  in  Holland,  ii.,  59,  60,  63,  64,  71 
— 75,  82;  afterwards,  ii.,  202,  228 — 230, 
239,  460,  505,  540. 

Furly,  Benjohan,  ii.,  490,  507. 

Galileo,  i.,  69. 

Gassendi,  his  influence  upon  Locke,  i., 
72  : ii.,  30,  91,  92. 

Gendron,  Abb6,  Locke’s  acquaintance 
with,  i.,  398 ; ii.,  18. 


Glisson,  Dr.  Francis,  i.,  201  n. 

Godefroi,  Abbd,  Locke’s  acquaintance 
with,  i.,  398,  449. 

Godolphin,  Sir  William,  i.,  19  n,  95.  97,  98, 
100,  119  ; Locke’s  letter  to,  i.,  120. 

Goodall,  Dr.,  ii.,  65,  150. 

Graevius,  John  George,  Locke’s  acquaint- 
ance with,  ii.,  17. 

Grafton,  the  Duchess  of,  ii. , 457. 

Grenville,  Denis,  i.,  397  ; Locke’s  letters 
to,  i.,  387—397. 

Gresham  College,  i.,  318,  370,  384,  406, 
407. 

Grey  of  Wark,  Lord  ; see  Tankerville,  Earl 
of. 

Grigg,  Mrs.,  Locke’s  relations  with,  i., 
256,  260,  261,  263  n.,  266,  316,  437,  438  ; 
ii.,  149. 

Grigg,  Thomas,  i.,  260. 

Grigg,  William,  ii.,  540. 

Gronovius,  ii.,  15. 

Grotius,  his  influence  upon  Locke,  ii.,  15, 
170. 

Guenellon,  Peter,  Locke’s  friendship  with, 
i„  385  ; ii.,  5,  6,  22,  25,  28,  29,  53,  59, 
85,  156,  205—207,  399,  540. 

Gulick,  van,  Locke’s  landlord  at  Utrecht, 
ii.,  17. 

Haarlem,  Locke  at,  ii.,  9. 

Hague,  the,  Locke  at,  ii.,  81,  84,  86. 

Halifax,  Charles  Montagu,  Earl  of.  ii., 
217,  311,  326,  330,  333,  337,  346. 

Halifax,  George  Saville,  Marquis  of,  i., 
201,  419  ; ii.,  163,  316. 

Harborne,  Thomas,  Locke’s  pupil,  i.,  87. 

Harley,  Sir  Edward,  Locke’s  letter  to,  ii., 
311  n. 

Harmar,  John,  Greek  professor  at  Oxford, 

i.  49. 

Harvey,  William,  i.,  69,  92,  217. 

Hasel,  Anne,  Locke’s  bequest  to,  ii.,  540. 

Heathcote,  Gilbert,  ii.,  355. 

Henchman,  Bishop,  i.,  260. 

Herbert,  Thomas  ; see  Pembroke,  Earl  of. 

Hill,  Abraham,  ii.,  352. 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  i.,  32,  171,  173,  179  ; ii., 
412,  423  ; his  influence  upon  Locke,  i., 
72,  148,  153,  162;  ii.,  89—93,  114  n., 
115  7i.,  120  7i.,  129  7i.,  170,  179. 

Hodges,  Nathaniel,  Locke’s  friend  at 
Oxford  and  afterwards,  i.,  69,  60 ; ii., 
483. 

Hoorn,  Locke  at,  ii.,  10. 

Howell,  Francis,  i.  46. 

Huyghens,  Locke’s  relations  with,  i.,  399 ; 

ii. ,  216  7i. 

Hyde,  Dr.  James,  i.,  129. 

Hyeres,  Locke  at,  i.,  346. 


INDEX, 


565 


Indulgence,  declaration  of,  in  1672,  i., 
275,  282. 

Keenes,  the,  of  Wrington,  i.,  3,  4 n.,  12, 
434. 

Kidder,  Richard,  bishop  of  Bath  and 
Wells,  ii.,  248,  249. 

King,  Jeremy,  of  Exeter,  i.,  3 n. ; ii.,  461. 

King,  Peter,  afterwards  lord  chancellor, 

1.,  3 n. ; Locke’s  superintendence  of  his 
education,  ii.,  451  ; his  relations  with 
Locke,  ii.,  451,  452,  463,  487—490,  501 
—603,  609,  510,  513  — 516,  640,  641, 
547,  552 — 556  ; his  marriage,  ii.,  516, 
662 ; his  work  as  Locke’s  executor,  ii., 
540,  555  ; his  writings,  ii.,  451. 

Kneller’s,  Sir  Godfrey,  portraits  of  Locke, 

11.,  549. 

Knox,  John,  i.,  166. 

Labadists,  Locke’s  visit  to  the,  in  Fries- 
land, ii.,  12. 

Languedoc,  the  States  General  of,  i. , 348  ; 
government  of,  i.,  348. 

Laplanders,  customs  and  superstitions  of 
the,  i.,  321—325. 

Laud,  Archbishop,  i.,  39,  166. 

‘ Laudabridis  ’ ; see  Masham,  Esther. 

Lauderdale,  Duke  of,  i.,  272. 

Le  Clerc,  Jean,  ii.,  30,  31  ; Locke’s  friend- 
ship with  while  in  Holland,  ii.,  42 
—45,  49,  50,  53,  61,  70,  75—79,  81  ; 
after  his  return  to  England,  ii.,  140, 
205,  208,  221—223,  228,  230,  239,  416, 
478  ; his  account  of  Locke,  i.,  47,  61, 
102  n.,  248 ; ii.,  19,  22,  24,  395,  436, 
657, 659 ; his  writings,  ii.,  30 — 33,  42,  43. 

Leeuwarden,  Locke  at,  ii.,  11 — 13. 

Leibnitz,  observations  on  Locke,  ii.,  436. 

Leyden,  Locke  at,  ii.,  14 — 16. 

Licensing  act,  its  abolition  in  1695,  ii., 
312,  315,  316. 

Lilburne,  Richard,  i.,  327 ; his  letter  to 
Locke,  i.,  328. 

Limborch,  Philip  van,  ii.,  8 ; Locke’s 
relations  with  in  Holland,  ii.,  6,  8,  17, 
22,  25—29,  33—35,  46—53,  55,  60—62, 
68 — 70,  75,  79 — 86;  after  his  return 
to  England,  ii.,  140.  150.  153—158, 
181,  203—209,  228,  231,  232,  235—237, 
247—250,  269,  282,  293,  294,  302,  399, 
416,  468,  478, 493,  494,  504, 505,  517,  548; 
his  notices  of  Locke,  ii.,  6,  23,  25, 
29  ; his  ‘ Theologia  Christiana,’  ii.,  8, 
231 ; ‘ Collatio  de  Veritate  Religionis 
Christianae,’  ii.,  29,  237  ; ‘ Historia  In- 
quisitionis,’  ii.,  75,  228,  231,  235,  236, 
247—250. 

Limborch’s  son,  ii.,  491,  492. 


Linen  manufacture  in  Ireland,  Locke’s 
scheme  for  encouraging,  ii..  362 — 374 

Locke,  Agnes  or  Anne,  Locke’s  mother,  i., 
4,  13. 

Locke,  Edward,  of  Brockhampton,  i.,  2. 

Locke,  Elizabeth,  i.,  3. 

Locke,  Francis,  i.,  2. 

Locke,  John,  of  Bristol,  i.,  1,  10  n. 

Locke,  John,  of  London,  i.,  1. 

Locke,  John,  of  Publow,  Locke’s  father, 
born  in  1606,  i.,  3 ; married  in  1630,  i., 
4;  his  occupations  as  a country  attor- 
ney, i.,  5 — 7,  9 ; as  a parliamentary 
soldier,  i.,  7 — 9 ; Locke’s  letter  to  him, 

i.,  80 ; his  death  in  1661,  i.,  81  ; his 
character,  i.,  13,  15,  80  ; entries  in  his 
memorandum  book,  i.,  5 n.,  6 n.,  9 n .,  70. 
71. 

Locke,  John. 

Bates  and  Events : 

(1632.)  Born  at  Wrington,  i.,  11,  12;. 

his  early  childhood,  i.,  12 — 16. 

(1646 — 1652.)  At  Westminster  Schorl, 
i„  16—25. 

(1652 — 1656.)  A junior  student  at  Christ 
Church,  Oxford,  i.,  19,  26,  40  ; occu- 
pations, studies,  and  surroundings,  i., 
27 — 40 ; preparations  for  his  B.A. 
degree,  i.,  41 — 50 ; objections  to  the 
university  teaching,  i.,  45 — 50,  53,  54  ; 
takes  his  B.A.  degree,  i.,  44,  52. 

(1656 — 1660.)  Further  studies,  i„  54 — 
66  ; takes  his  M.A.  degree,  i. , 62  ; his 
senior  studentship  at  Christ  Church, 

i.,  52,  89  ; study  of  Descartes  and 
other  philosophers,  i.,  55,  61 — 69,  71, 
72;  Owen’s  influence  upon  him,  i., 
72 — 77,  79  ; in  the  last  years  of  the 
Commonwealth,  i.,  77 — 79  ; approval 
of  the  Restoration,  i.,  86  ; relations 
with  his  father,  i.,  80,  81  ; his  pro- 
perty in  Somersetshire,  i.,  82,  83. 
(1661.)  Greek  lecturer  at  Oxford,  i., 
86  ; his  pupils,  i.,  87. 

(1663.)  Reader  in  rhetoric  at  Oxford, 

i.,  86  ; attends  Peter  Stahl’s  che- 
mistry class,  i.,  93,  94  n. ; his  “testi- 
monial ” from  the  Christ  Church 
authorities,  i.,  88. 

(1664.)  Censor  of  Moral  Philosophy  at 
Oxford,  i.,  87. 

(1665.)  His  employment  as  secretary 
to  Sir  Walter  Vane,  i.,  100,  101,  119, 
121 ; his  experiences  at  Cleve,  i.,  103 
—121. 

(1666.)  Return  to  England,  i. , 121  ; re- 
fusal of  other  diplomatic  work,  i.. 
122,  123;  visit  to  Somersetshire,  i., 
123 — 127  ; medical  studies  at  Oxford, 


566 


INDEX. 


i.,  128 — 133:  introduction  to  Lord 
Ashley,  i.,  136  140—142,  166,  196; 
refusal  of  church  preferment, i.,  90, 91 ; 
the  Earl  cf  Clarendon’s  recommend- 
ation in  favour  of  granting  him  the 
M.D.  degree,  i.,  130;  Charles  the 
Second’s  l'  Dispensation  for  Mr. 
Locke  ” ficm  necessity  of  taking 
holy  orders,  i.,  131. 

(1667.)  Ill-health,  i,  196,  197;  resi- 
dence with  Lord  Ashley,  i.,  143,  144, 
147,  197—199;  tutor  to  Anthony 
Ashley,  i.,  197,  203  ; friendship  with 
Mapletoft,  i..  211  ; and  with  Syden- 
ham, i.,  212,  214,  218,  260  ; medical 
practice,  i.,  218 — 221,  230 — 236. 

(1668.)  Cure  of  Lord  Ashley’s  malady, 

i. ,  200,  220  ; a member  of  the  Royal 
Society,  i.,  245. 

(1669.)  Share  in  the  planting  of  Caro- 
lina, i. , 236 — 246  ; wife-finding  for 
Anthony  Ashley,  i. , 203 — 206  ; con- 
nection with  the  Royal  Society,  i., 
246;  at  Salisbury  with  David  Thomas, 

i.,  249.  260;  relations  with  “ Dor,”  i., 
261 ; relations  with  Mrs.  Blomer,  i., 
252—268,  261—263,  265,  266. 

(1670.)  Medical  attendance  on  Lady 
Dorothy  Ashley,  i.,  205 — 208,  220 ; 
and  on  Thomas  Grigg,  i.,  261  ; the 
meeting  at  which  the  ‘ Essay  con- 
cerning Human  Understanding  ’ was 
suggested,  i.,  248  ; ill-health,  i.,  263, 
265  ; at  Oxford  and  Salisbury,  i.,  264. 

(1671.)  At  Oxford  and  in  Somerset- 
shire, i.,  266  ; continued  ill-health,  i., 
266,  267 ; studies  in  political  eco- 
nomy, i.,  312,  313  ; ii.,  188. 

(1672.)  Proposed  visit  to  Carolina,  i., 
288  ; short  visit  to  France,  i.,  267 — 
269 ; a partner  in  the  company  of 
adventurers  to  Bahamas,  i.,  290 — 293, 
327  ; secretary  of  presentations  and 
other  service  to  Lord  Shaftesbury 
while  lord  chancellor,  i.,  278 — 282, 
314;  connection  with  the  Royal  So- 
ciety, i.,  318,  319. 

(1 6 73.)  Secretary  to  the  council  of  trade 
and  plantations,  i.,  286,  287,  293 ; 
other  work  in  connection  with  the 
colonies,  i.,  293  ; his  religious  opin- 
ions and  clerical  friends,  i.,  305 — 311. 

(1674.)  Takes  his  M.B.  degree,  i.,  330  ; 
ill-health,  i.,  334,  336  ; Shaftesbury’s 
annuity  to  him,  i.,  333. 

(1676.)  Obtains  a medical  studentship 
at  Christ  Church,  i. , 330  ; his  visit  to 
France,  i.,  335,  337  ; at  Poix,  i. , 338 
— 340 ; at  Tilliard,  i.,  340  ; at  Lyons, 


i.,  340,  341 ; on  the  way  to  Mont- 
pellier, i.,  342,  343  ; at  Nimes,  i.,  343 ; 
at  Montpellier,  i.,  344,  349,  352. 

(1676.)  At  Cette  and  Aigues  Mortes,  i., 
344  ; at  Picais,  i.,  345  ; at  Marseilles, 

i.,  345,  346 ; at  Toulon  and  Hyeres, 

i.,  346  ; at  Avignon,  i.,  347 ; at  Mont- 
pellier, i.,  347 — 355  ; philosophical 
studies  there,  i.,  356 — 364, 

(1677.)  At  Montpellier,  i.,  366 ; journey 
back  to  Paris,  i.,  366  ; illness  at  Bor- 
deaux, i.,  366 ; at  Tours,  i.,  374 ; 
residence  in  Paris,  i.,  367 — 384  ; visits 
to  the  Bibliothfeque  dir  Roi,  i.,  375; 
to  the  Louvre,  i.,  379 ; to  Versailles, 

i.,  379;  to  Fontainebleau,  i.,  380; 
medical  attendance  on  the  Countess 
of  Northumberland,  i.,  382 — 384  ; ac- 
quaintance with  Francois  Bernier, 
Nicolas  Thoynard,  Guenellon,  Justel, 
Romer,  and  others,  i.,  376,  385,  386. 

(1678.)  Residence  in  Paris,  i.,  384 — 388, 
397  ; visits  to  Orleans,  i.,  397  ; Blois, 

i.,  398 ; Angers,  i„  400 ; Bordeaux, 

i.,  400 — 403  ; Montpellier  and  Lyons, 

i.,  403  ; return  to  Paris,  i.,  403 — 406. 

(1679.)  Residence  in  Paris,  i.,  407  ; re- 
turn to  England,  i.,  407,  408 ; political 
work  in  Shaftesbury’s  service,  i.,  411 
— 415  ; residence  at  Thanet  House, 

i.,  411,  413  ; relations  with  his  Eng- 
lish friends,  i.,  425,  427,  430,  432— 
434  ; at  Bexwells,  i.,  425 — 429,  446  ; 
at  Olantigh,  i.,  434, 447  ; illness  there, 

i.,  448,  449  ; at  Oxford,  i.,  436  ; share 
in  the  education  of  Shaftesbury’s 
grandson,  i.,  422 — 424  ; medical  oc- 
cupations, i.,  445,  451 ; income  and 
property,  i.,  431,  432. 

(1689.)  Political  occupations,  i.,  416 — 
419;  miscellaneous  occupations,  i., 
437 — 441 ; at  St.  Giles’s,  Salisbury, 
and  Basingstoke,  i.,  438  ; at  Alsford, 

i.,  439  ; at  Oxford,  i.,  439. 

(1681).  Political  occupations,  i.,  420 — 
422  ; at  Oakley,  i.,  441 ; illness  there, 

i.,  441  ; at  Oxford,  i.,  421,  441 — 445, 
467. 

(1682.)  Lastrelations  with  Shaftesbury 
and  Lady  Shaftesbury,  i.,  469 — 472  ; 
medical  work  with  Sydenham,  i.,  455 ; 
residence  at  Oxford,  i.,  469,  470 ; in 
London,  i.,  469,  471  ; acquaintance 
with  Damaris  Cudworth,  i.,  477. 

(1683.)  In  London,  i.,  472,  473 ; at 
Shaftesbury’s  funeral,  i.,  472  ; at  Ox- 
ford. i.,  478 — 480;  departure  for 
Holland,  i.,  481  ; ii.,  5. 

(1684.)  Residence  in  Amsterdam,  ii.  5, 


INDEX. 


567 


— 9;  tour  through  the  Seven  Pro- 
vinces, ii.,  9 — 14  ; at  Alkmaar,  ii.,  9 ; 
at  Hoorn,  Enkhuizen.  and  Workum, 

ii.,  10  ; at  Francker  and  Leeuwarden, 

ii.,  11  ; a visit  to  the  Labadists,  ii., 
12,  13;  at  Deventer,  ii.,  14;  at 
Leyden,  ii.,  15  ; at  Amsterdam,  ii.,  16  ; 
expulsion  from  Christ  Church,  i., 
483—486. 

(1685.)  Residence  at  Utrecht,  ii..  16 — 
18,  22,  29;  the  efforts  to  implicate 
him  in  Monmouth’s  rebellion,  and  his 
consequent  troubles,  ii.,  19 — 24 ; con- 
cealment in  Amsterdam,  ii.,  22,  26, 
27 ; friendship  with  Limborch,  ii., 
6,  22,  26,  27  ; visit  to  Cleve,  ii.,  24, 
25,  27 — 29,  32  ; further  residence  in 
Amsterdam,  ii.,  25,  34 — 42. 

(1686.)  In  Amsterdam,  ii.,  46,  47 ; 
friendship  with  Le  Clerc,  ii.,  42 — 45  ; 
second  stay  at  Utrecht,  ii.,  47 — 52  ; 
return  to  Amsterdam,  ii.,  53. 

(1687.)  Residence  in  Rotterdam,  ii.,  53, 
55,  58 — 62 ; share  in  preparing  for 
the  revolution  of  1688,  ii.,  55 — 58  ; 
in  Amsterdam,  ii.,  63 — 67,  71 — 74; 
in  Rotterdam,  ii.,  68 — 70 ; illness 
there,  ii.,  69. 

(1688.)  In  Rotterdam,  ii.,  74 — 82. 

(1689.)  Return  to  England,  ii.,  83 — 86  ; 
refusal  of  ambassadorship  to  Bran- 
denburg, ii.,  144 — 146  ; appointment 
as  commissioner  of  appeals,  ii.,  147  ; 
petition  for  restitution  of  his  Christ 
Church  studentship,  ii..  198 ; occu- 
pations in  London,  ii.,  149 — 161,  195, 
199 — 205,  216  ; rules  for  the  Society 
of  Pacific  Christians,  ii.,  185 — 187. 

(1690.)  Occupations  in  London,  ii..  161 
— 164,  205 — 209.  212;  quarrel  with 
Limborch,  ii.,  207,  208. 

(1691.)  Settlement  at  Oates,  ii.,  212 — 
215  ; relations  with  Newton,  ii.,  217 
— 225  ; correspondence  with  Lim- 
borch, ii., 228. 231 ; with  Furly, ii.,  229. 

(1692.)  Occupations  at  Oates,  ii.,  232, 
246.  247,  250 — 252  ; visit  to  Cam- 
bridge. ii.,  232  ; visits  to  London,  ii., 
235—240,  245,  249,  250,  252  ; friend- 
ship with  Edward  Clarke,  ii.,  233, 

246,  247,  250 — 252 ; with  Tillotson, 

ii.,  237  ; with  William  Molyneux,  ii., 
240 — 242  ; with  Thomas  Molyneux, 

ii.,  242 — 245:  with  Betty  Clarke,  ii., 

247,  250—252. 

(1693.)  At  Oates,  ii.,  255,  256,  266,  269 
— 271,  276  ; in  London,  ii..  293,  294  ; 
Newton’s  charges  against  him.  ii.,  226. 
227. 


(1694.)  In  London,  ii.,  294;  share  in 
the  establishment  of  the  Bank  of 
England,  ii.,  295 ; at  Oates,  ii.,  297 — 
299,  301—303  ; relations  with  Esther 
Masham,  ii.,  296 — 301  ; connection 
with  political  affairs,  ii.,  309 — 311. 

(1695.)  At  Oates,  ii.,  267,  281—290, 
303 — 307  ; in  London,  ii. , 305  ; share 
in  abolishing  the  censorship  of  the 
press,  ii.,  312 — 316-;  efforts  to  im- 
prove the  temper  of  politicians,  ii.. 
317 — 324  ; share  in  the  reform  of 
the  coinage,  ii.,  324 — 342. 

(1696.)  At  "Oates,  ii.,  307,  357,  359; 
occupations  as  commissioner  of  ap- 
peals, ii.,  344,  345 ; appointment  as 
commissioner  of  trade  and  planta- 
tions, ii.,  348 — 350 ; work  in  that 
capacity,  ii.,  350 — 359;  at  a quaker 
meeting-house,  ii.,  453;  letters  to 
Esther  Masham,  ii. , 454,  455. 

(1697.)  At  Oates,  ii.,  359 — 362  ; pro- 
posed resignation  of  his  commissioner- 
ship  of  trade,  ii.,  359 — 361  ; return 
to  work,  ii.,  362;  scheme  for  encou- 
raging the  Irish  linen  manufacture, 

ii.,  363 — 374;  other  work,  ii.,  375; 
scheme  for  reforming  the  poor-laws, 

ii.,  377 — 393  ; letters  to  Esther  Ma- 
sham, ii.,  455 — 457 ; illness  in  Lon- 
don, ii.,  268. 

(1698.)  An  offer  of  fresh  employment, 

ii. ,  395 — 399,  459  ; illness  at  Oates, 

ii.,  395,  397,  459 — 462 ; at  the  council 
of  trade,  ii.,  375,  393;  relations  with 
Peter  King,  ii.,  451,  452;  and  with 
Molyneux,  ii.,  463 — 468  ; correspond- 
ence with  Limborch  and  Thovnard, 

ii.,  468—471. 

(1699.)  At  Oates,  ii.,  472 — 477 ; at  the 
council  of  trade,  ii.,  393;  plan  for 
reforming  the  calendar,  ii.,  477. 

(1700.)  At  the  council  of  trade,  ii.,  393  ; 
retirement,  ii. , 393,  394,  400,  478, 
479  ; serious  illness  at  Oates,  ii.,  480 
—484. 

(1701.)  A new  year’s  letter  to  Thoy- 
nard,  ii.,  484,  485  ; interest  in  politi- 
cal affairs,  ii. , 486  ; letters  to  Peter 
King,  ii.,  486— 490;  guardianship  of 
Limborch’s  son,  ii.,  491  ; theological 
and  biblical  studies,  ii.,  494 — 500. 

(1702.)  Interest  in  politics,  ii.,  501 — 
504  ; deafness  and  other  ailments,  ii., 
505 — 507  ; a visit  from  the  Earl  of 
Peterborough,  ii.,  508 — 511 ; last  letter 
to  Clarke,  ii.,  512. 

(1703.)  Occupations  and  correspond- 
ence at  Oates,  ii.,  513 — 524 ; friend- 


668 


INDEX, 


ship  with  Anthony  Collins,  ii.,  517 — 
523. 

(1704.)  Last  occupations  and  death,  ii., 
540 — 560  ; his  will,  ii. , 540  ; estimate 
of  his  work  and  character,  ii.,  524 — 
640. 

Letters  : 

Alford,  John,  To,  (1667)  i.,  134. 

Allestree,  William,  From.  (1672)  i.,  320; 
(1673)  i.,  320,  321;  (1674)  i.,  321, 
325;  (1675),  323. 

Banks,  Sir  John,  To,  (1677)  i.,  378. 

Blomer,  Mrs.,  From,  (1670)  i..  88,  253, 
261,  263;  (1671)  i.,  286;  (1672)  i., 
314,  315. 

Blomer,  Thomas,  From,  (1670)  i.,  258. 

Bokle,  Samuel,  To,  (1699)  ii.,  472. 

Boyle,  Robert,  To,  (1665)  i..  103,  118; 
(1666)  i.,  125;  (1667)  i.,  132,  135, 
136,  200;  (1677)  i.,  367;  (1678)  i., 
367,  385,  398  ; (1679)  i.,  385  ; (1691) 

ii.,  225. 

Burridge,  Richard,  To;  (1698)  ii.,  467. 

Calverley,  Lady.  To,  ii.,  512  n. 

Cary,  John,  To,  (1696)  ii.,  342,  343; 
From,  (1696)  ii.,  342. 

Charleton,  William,  To,  (1687)  ii.,  65, 
67. 

Churchill.  Awnsham,  To,  (1704)  ii.,  546. 

Clarke,  Edward,  To,  (1692)  ii.,  234, 
239,  246,  247,  250,  251;  (1694)  ii., 
295,  301  ; (1695)  ii.,  302,  304,  305, 
324;  (1696)  ii.,  307,  340—342,  344; 
(1698)  ii.,  462  ; (1700)  ii.,  479—483  ; 
(1701)  ii.,  486,  487  ; (1702)  ii.,  512. 

Colleton,  Sir  Peter,  From.  (1671)  i.,  244  ; 
(1673)  i.,  288,  292,  326. 

Collier,  Rebecca,  To,  (1606)  ii.,  453. 

Collins,  Anthony,  To,  (1703)  ii..  518 — 
522;  (1704)  ii.,  620,  523,  643—545, 
547—652,  554. 

Covell,  John,  To,  (1697)  ii.,  413;  (1698) 

ii.,  414,  415  n. ; (1700)  ii.,  481 ; From, 
(1697)  ii„  414;  (1698)  ii.,  415. 

Cudworth,  Thomas,  To,  (1683)  i„  474. 

“ Dear  Sister”  (?  Mrs.  Grigg),  To,  (1689) 

ii.,  149. 

“Dor.”  To,  (1669)  i.,  251. 

Excise,  Commissioners  of,  To,  (1696) 

ii.,  345. 

Fanshaw,  William,  From,  (1675)  i., 
335  n. 

Fell,  John,  bishop  of  Oxford,  From, 
(1675)  i„  336;  (1680)  i.,  436. 

Furly,  Benjamin,  To,  (1687)  ii.,  63,  71 ; 
(1688)  ii.,  60,  72.  73;  (1691)  ii.,  229; 
(1698)  ii.,  460,  607  ; (1702)  ii.,  606. 

Furly,  Benjohan,  To,  (1702)  ii.,  507. 


Godolphin,  Sir  William,  To,  (1665)  i., 

120. 

Grenville.  Denis,  To,  (1677)  i.,  388; 
(1678)  i„  390,  394. 

Harley,  Sir  Edward.  To,  (1694)  ii.,  310  n. 
King,  Peter,  Lord  Chancellor,  To,  (1698) 

11.,  436,  452,  462  ; (1701)  ii.,  488— 
490  ; (1702)  ii.,  501—503  ; 508—510, 
515;  (1703)  ii.,  513,  514,  541;  (1704) 
642,  552,  653,  556  ; From,  (1703)  ii., 
516. 

Le  Clerc,  Jean,  To,  (1686)  ii.,  17,  48  ; 
(1688)  ii.,  76  ; From,  (1691)  ii.,  221 ; 
(1692)  ii.,  222,  232. 

Lilburne,  Richard,  From,  (1674)  i.,  328. 
Limborch,  Philip  van,  To,  (1684)  ii., 
17;  (1685)  ii.,  27—29,  31,  46,  47; 
(1686)  ii.,  47,  48,  50,  51 ; (1687)  ii., 
53,  56,  60—62,  68—70;  (1688)  ii., 
75.  79—82;  (1689)  ii.,  83,  84.  151. 
153,  165,  181,  201,  203,  204;  (1690) 

11..  206,  208,  212 ; (1691)  ii.,  230,  231  ; 
(1692)  ii.,  232,  235,  237,  249,  269; 
(1693)  ii.,  293,  294;  (1698)  ii.,  399; 
(1699)  ii.,  468,  469;  (1701)  ii.,  491, 
492,  494  ; (1702)  ii.,  504,  505;  (1704) 
ii,  648  ; From,  (1690)  ii.,  205  ; (1692) 

11.,  228.  235,  248;  (1698)  ii.,  399  ; 
(1699)  ii.,  416;  (1700)  ii.,  478  ; (1702) 

11.,  505  ; (1704)  ii.,  548. 

Locke,  John,  senior,  To,  (1660)  i.,  80, 
257. 

Mapletoft,  John,  To,  (1670)  i.,  259,  264  ; 
(1671)  i„  266;  (1672)  i„  267 ; (1673) 

1.,  279.  316  ; (1677)  ii.,  368,  371,  372. 
382—384;  (1678)  i.,  403,  406  ; (1679) 

1.,  407. 

Masham,  Esther,  To,  (1694)  ii.,  298 — 
301;  (1696)  ii.,  454,  455;  (1697)  ii., 
456,  457;  (1698)  ii.,  461 ; (1699)  ii., 
475,  476  ; (1701)  ii.,  493. 

Molyneux,  Thomas,  To,  (1692)  ii.,  243  ; 
(1693)  ii.,  243;  (1698)  ii.,  468;  (1699) 

11.,  441,  471  ; From,  (1692)  ii.,  243. 
Molyneux,  William.  To,  (1692)  ii.,  242, 

270;  (1693)  ii.,  254,  265,  276;  (1694) 

ii.,  274,  281 ; (1695)  ii.,  267,  272,  273, 
277,  302,  303,  306,  325;  (1696)  ii., 
268,  280,  307,  338,  349,  358,  362; 
(1697)  ii.,  361,  416,  421,  422,  437, 
439,  443;  (1698)  ii.,  373,  423,  458, 
459,  463;  From,  (1692)  ii.,  242,  274, 
279;  (1693)  ii.,  264,  276;  (1695)  ii., 
267,  273,  274;  (1696)  ii„  291,  292, 
362;  (1697)  ii.,  373,  409,  416,  418  n., 
421,  424;  (1698)  ii.,  422,  463,  466, 
467. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  To,  (1692)  ii.,  224, 
238;  (1693)  ii.,  226;  From,  (1690) 


INDEX. 


569 


11.,  212,  217,  219—221 ; (1691)  ii.,  217 
—219,  223;  (1692)  ii.,  217,  218,  222 
—224,  238;  (1693)  ii.,  226,  227; 
(1703)  ii.,  615. 

Pembroke,  Thomas,  Earl  of,  To,  (1684) 

1.,  487  ; (1696)  ii.,  308  ; From,  (1684) 

1.,  487  ; (1685)  ii..  23. 

Peterborough  and  Monmouth,  Earl  of 

(previously  Lord  Mordaunt),  To, 
(1689)  ii.,  144;  From.  (1692)  ii.,  252; 
(1694)  ii..  294;  (1695)  ii.,  348;  (1702) 

11.,  510;  (1703)  ii.,  511. 

Rush,  Isaac,  From,  (1673)  i.,  293 ; (1674) 

1.,  293  n. 

Rutland.  Countess  of,  From.  (1670)  i., 
205,  206  ; (1671)  i.,  206,  207  n. 
Shaftesbury,  Anthony,  first  Earl  of 
(previously  Lord  Ashley),  To,  (1680) 
i„  416,  424,  439  ; (1681)  i.,  421,  441  ; 
From,  (1669)  i„  204  ; (1671)  i.,  208; 
(1674)  i.,  277,  293,  332,423;  (1677) 
i„  366;  (1680)  i.,  415,  421. 
Shaftesbury,  Anthony,  third  Earl  of 
(previously  Lord  Ashley),  From, 
(1689)  ii.,  203  n. 

Shaftesbury,  Dorothy,  Countess  of  (pre- 
viously Lady  Dorothy  Ashley),  From, 
(1671)  i..  207. 

Shaftesbury,  Margaret,  Countess  of 
(previously  Lady  Ashley),  From, 
(1671)  i„  208  ; (1682)  i„  471. 

Sloane.  Sir  Hans,  To,  (1694)  ii.,  296  ; 
(1699)  ii.,  477  ; (1700)  ii.,  483 ; (1701) 

11.,  492. 

Smith,  Humphrey,  To,  (1703)  i„  57 — 59. 
Somers,  John,  lord  chancellor,  To, 
(1697)  ii.,  359,  361;  (1698)  ii.,  397 ; 
From,  (1689)  ii.,  160,  162;  (1695)  ii., 
332;  (1696)  ii.,  350;  (1697)  ii.,  360. 
Strachey,  John,  To,  (1665)  i.,  103 — 118, 
123;  (1666)  i.,  122—124;  (1667)  i., 
143,  198;  From,  (1672)  i.,  312; 
(1674)  i.,  329. 

Stringer,  Thomas,  To,  (1681)  i.,  421  ; 
From,  (1676)  i.,  332,  354,  355,  423, 
426  ; (1677)  i.,  366,  376,  377. 

Tenison,  Thomas,  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, To,  (1696)  ii.,  338,  339. 
Thomas,  David,  From,  (1666)  i.,  140; 

(1669)  i.,  249.  250  ; (1685)  ii.,  23. 
Thoynard,  Nicolas,  To,  (1678)  i.,  398, 
400;  (1679)  i.,  408,  426,  429—431, 
435;  (1680)  i„  437—440;  (1681)  i., 
441,442,444;  (1684)  i.,  486;  ii.,  16, 
42  ; (1685)  ii.,  18,  43  ; (1688)  ii.,  81 ; 
(1698)  ii.,  469,  470  ; (1701;  ii.,  484. 
Trumbull,  Sir  William,  From,  (1696)  ii., 
350. 

Tyrrell,  James,  To,  (1687)  ii.,  62 ; 


0690)  ii.,  203  n. ; From.  (1687  and 
1688)  ii.,  58  n. ; (1689)  ii.,  209  n. ; 
(1704)  ii.,  523. 

West,  Joseph,  From,  (1673)  i.,  288. 

Williamson,  Sir’  Joseph,  To,  (1666)  i., 

121. 

Wynne,  John,  bishop  of  St.  Asaph.  To, 
(1695)  ii.,  275  ; From,  (1665)  ii.,  275. 

• (a  friend  in  Dublin),  To,  (1666) 

i.,  90,  257. 

Writings  : 

Entries  in  his  father’s  memorandum- 
book  : ‘ To  make  Shining  Ink,’  i., 
10  n. ; ‘ Philosophy.’  i.,  70;  ‘ Of  the 
kinds  of  Teaching  Moral  Philosophy,’ 

i.,  71. 

‘ Collections  out  of  the  History  of  Eng- 
land,’ i.,  55  n. 

Contributions  to  ‘ Musarum  Oxonien- 
sium  'EXaio^opia,'  (1654)  i.,  50 — 52. 

‘ Reflections  upon  the  Roman  Common- 
wealth,’ (?  1660)  i.,  147—154,  167, 
168,  173  ; ii.,  170. 

‘ Whether  the  Civil  Magistrate  may  im- 
pose the  use  of  Indifferent  Things 
in  reference  to  Religious  Worship,’ 
(?  1660)  i.,  154—156. 

‘ Infallibilis  Scripturae  Interpres  non 
Necessarius,’  (1661)  i.,  161,  162. 

Entries  in  his  common-place  books : 

‘ Sacerdos,’  i.,  156 — 160;  virtue  and 
vice,  i.,  162 — 164 ; a utilitarian  scheme 
of  life,  i.,  164,  165  ; ‘ Error,’  i.,  306 — 
309. 

‘ An  Essay  concerning  Toleration,’ 
(1667)  i.,  156,  165,  172—194  ; ii.,  34, 
35. 

‘ Respirationis  Usus,’  (?1667)  i.,  221. 

‘ Anatomica,’  (1668)  i.,  228. 

‘ De  Arte  Medica,’  (1669)  i..  221 — 228. 

1 Tussis,’  (?  1669)  i.,  229,  455. 

Share  in  ‘ The  Fundamental  Constitu- 
tions of  Carolina,’  i.,  238 — 243. 

Contributions  to  Sydenham’s  ‘ Methodus 
Curandi  Febres,’  (1670)  i.,  231 — 233. 

‘ Discourses,’  translated  from  Nicole’s 
‘ Essais  de  Morale,’  (?  1673)  i.,  294 — 
305. 

Contributions  to  the  ‘ Philosophical 
Transactions,’  i.,  329,  385  ; ii.,  235  n. 

Entries  in  his  journals,  i.,  338 — 353, 
355—366,  374—376,  379—381,386— 
390,  399,  400,  408,  419  n.,  425,  432— 
434, 438,446—451 : notes  on  space,  ex- 
tension, etc.,  i.,  355 — 358;  experience 
the  means  of  knowledge,  i.,  358,  359 ; 
‘ Study,’ i.,  360 — 364;  ‘Atlantis,’  i., 
429  n. ; limits  to  God's  power,  i.,  461 ; 


570 


INDEX. 


the  doctrine  of  inspiration,  i.,  462  ; 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  i.,  464. 

‘ Observations  upon  Vines,  Olives,  bilk, 
and  Fruit,’  (1679)  i.,  363. 

‘ A Defence  of  Nonconformity,’  (?  1682) 

i.,  456—461. 

Verses  ‘ To  a young  lady  that  could 
never  be  kept  at  home,’  i.,  467. 

‘ Extracts  of  Sydenham's  Physic  Books,’ 
(?  1685)  i.,  230  «.,  233  n.,  452—455. 

Contributions  to  the  ‘ Bibliothbque 
Universelle,’  ii.,  44,  45,  59,  61,  62  ; 

‘ Methode  nouvelle  de  dresser  des 
Recueils,’  ii.,  44,  45 ; ‘ Extrait  d’un 
Essai  Philosophique  concernant  l’En- 
tendement,’  ii.,  70,  72,  98 — 100,  110, 
111,  122. 

‘ Memoirs  relating  to  the  Life  of  An- 
thony, First  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,’  i., 
472  n. 

‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia,’  (1685)  i.,  172 
—174;  ii.,  34 — 41.151,205— 207.  The 
English  translation  by  William  Pop- 
ple, ii.,  34  n.,  153,  154,  159,  181. 

1 An  Essay  concerning  Human  Under- 
standing,’(1690)  i.,  222,  469;  ii.,  78, 
241,  242,  470  ; its  origin,  i.,  248  ; ii., 
87 — 89;  notes  preparatory  to  it,  i., 
355 — 365,  466 ; ii.,  94,  97  ; its  com- 
position, ii.,  16,  18,  28,  94 — 102; 
account  of  it,  Book  I.,  ii.,  103 — 109  ; 
Book  II.,  ii.,  109—129  ; Book  III.,  ii., 
122—125;  Book  IV.,  ii.,  125— 134  ; ob- 
servations on  it,  ii.,  134 — 139  ; print- 
ing of  the  first  edition,  ii.,  139 — 141 ; 
the  second  edition,  ii.,  227,  269 — 272 ; 
the  third  edition,  ii.,  272  ; the  fourth 
edition,  ii.,  439 — 442 ; Burridge’s 
Latin  version,  ii.,  274,  441 ; Coste’s 
French  version,  ii.,  440;  Wynne's 
abridgment,  ii.,  275 ; controversy 
with  Stillingfleet  concerning  it,  ii., 
420 — 437  ; other  attacks,  ii.,  437 — 
439. 

‘ Two  Treatises  of  Government,’  (1690) 
i„  446  ; ii.,  165—180,  375. 

‘A  Second  Letter  concerning  Toleration,’ 
(1690)  ii.,  182,  208. 

‘ Some  Consideration  of  the  conse- 
quences of  the  Lowering  of  Interest 
and  Raising  the  Value  of  Money,’ 
(1692)  i.,  313;  ii.,  187—193,195,  196, 
324,  348,  375. 

‘ A Third  Letter  for  Toleration,’  (1692) 

ii.,  182—184,  238—240. 

‘ Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,’ 
(1693)  i.,  21—25,  45,  46,  49;  ii.,  74  «.; 

ii.,  252—268.  440,  470,  471. 

‘ The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  as 


delivered  in  the  Scriptures,’  (1695)  ii., 
282—290,  406,  440. 

‘ A Vindication  of  the  Reasonableness 
of  Christianity,’  (1695)  ii.,  290 — 292, 
407. 

‘ Remarks  upon  some  of  Mr.  Norris’s 
Books,’  (1695)  ii.,  275. 

‘ An  Examination  of  Malebranche’s 
Opinion  of  Seeing  all  Things  in  God, 
(1695)  ii.,  276—279. 

‘ Short  Observations  on  a Paper  for 
Encouraging  the  Coining  Silver 
Money,’  (1695)  ii.,  327. 

1 Further  Considerations  concerning 
Raising  the  Value  of  Money,’  (1695) 

ii.,  331—337,  342. 

‘ A Second  Vindication  of  the  Reason- 
ableness of  Christianity,’  (1697)  ii., 
284,  408—412. 

1 A Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester 
concerning  some  passages  in  an  Essay 
concerning  Human  Understanding,’ 
(1697)  ii.,  421,  422,  425—428,  436. 

‘ Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s 
Answer,  (1697)  ii.,  422,  428—433. 

‘ Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester’s 
Second  Answer,’  (1699)  ii.,  420,  423, 
424,  433—435. 

‘ A Letter,’  in  verse,  (1700)  ii.,  400 — 403. 

‘ Of  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding, 

11.,  443 — 449. 

‘ Elements  of  Natural  Philosophy,’  ii., 
449  n. 

‘ An  Essay  on  Miracles,’  (1703)  ii.,  449  n. 

‘ An  Essay  for  the  Understanding  of  St. 
Paul’s  Epistles,’  and  paraphrases  and 
notes  thereon,  ii.,  495 — 501. 

‘ A Fourth  Letter  for  Toleration,’  ii., 
624. 

Pamphlets  wrongly  attributed  to  him  : 

‘ A Letter  from  a Person  of  Quality  to 
his  Friend  in  the  Country,’  i.,  336, 
482 ; ‘No  Protestant  Plot,’  and  others, 

1.,  466,  482,  487. 

Locke,  Nicholas,  of  Publow,  i.,  2,  3,  82. 

Locke,  Peter  (Locke’s  uncle),  born  in  1607, 

i.,  3 ; his  children,  i.,  3 ; ii.,  450 ; his 
relations  with  Loc'ke,  i.,  82,  266. 

Locke,  Peter  (Locke’s  cousin),  i.,  220. 

Locke,  Thomas  (Locke’s  uncle),  i.,  3 »., 
82  n. 

Locke,  Thomas  (Locke’s  brother),  i.,  13, 82. 

Locke,  Sir  William,  i.,  2. 

“ Locke’s  Boy,  Mr.,”  i.,  332. 

Locke’s  Island,  i.,  427. 

Lockhart,  Mrs.,  ii.,  234,  245. 

Louis  XIV.,  Locke’s  experiences  of,  i.,  379 
—381. 


INDEX 


571 


Lower,  Richard,  i.,  19  n .,  80  ».,  89  n.,  130. 

Lowndes,  William,  ii.,  327 ; his  essay  on 
the  coinage,  and  Locke’s  reply  to  it,  ii., 
328—337. 

Lyons,  Locke’s  visit  to,  in  1675,  i.,  340  ; 
in  1678,  i.,  403. 

Malebranche,  Nicolas,  ii.,  275 — 276  ; 
Locke’s  strictures  on,  ii.,  276 — 279. 

Manners,  Lady  Dorothy ; see  Shaftes- 
bury, Dorothy,  Countess  of. 

Mapletoft,  John,  i.,  211,  233;  at  West- 
minster School  with  Locke,  i.,  19  n., 
211 ; their  later  friendship,  i.,  212,  219, 
259,  291,  310,  370,  425,  433  ; Locke’s 
letters  to,  i.,  259,  260,  279,  316,  369, 
371,  372,  382—384,  403,  406,  407. 

Marseilles,  Locke  at,  i.,  345. 

Mary  II.,  Locke’s  acquaintance  with  in 
Holland, ii.,  51,  86  ; afterwards, ii.,  394. 

Masham,  Damaris,  Lady,  her  early  life,  i., 
476,  ii.,  210 ; early  acquaintance  with 
Locke,  i.  477 — 479;  ii.,  195,  211  ; rela- 
tions with  him  after  his  settlement  at 
Oates,  ii.,  212—214,  228,  247,  250,  262, 
266,  267,  282—284,  296,  308,  455,  460, 
462,  485,  491,  538,  540,  550,  555,  558, 
560.  Locke’s  praise  of  her,  ii.,  212; 
her  account  of  Locke  in  a letter  to 
J&an  Le  Clerc.  i.,  5,  9,  13.  43,  47,  53,  61, 
90  ».,  140,  142  n.,  197,  248.  381,  411  n., 
436,  477,  479,  482,  483,  486  ; ii.,  16,  23, 
195,  197,  199,  200,  211,  212,  394,  395, 
529,  530,  532.  535,  540. 

Masham,  Esther,  ii.,  210,  214,  297  n.  ; 
Locke’s  relations  and  correspondence 
with  her,  ii.,  296 — 301,  454 — 457,  461, 
462,  475,  476,  485,  493,  538,  540. 

Masham,  Sir  Francis,  ii.,  210,  247,  455. 
460,  540. 

Masham,  Francis  Cudworth,  ii.,  214,  256, 
266,  267,  301,  449  n.,  455,  460,  476, 
483  n.,  538,  540,  550,  555. 

Masham,  Samuel,  Lord,  ii.,  210. 

Masham,  Sir  William,  ii.,  210. 

Masham,  Mrs.,  ii.,  214,  251,  454. 

Meadows,  Sir  Philip,  ii.,  352. 

Meary,  Dr.  Edmund,  i..  80. 

Mendip,  Locke  at,  i.,  125 — 127. 

Methuen,  John,  ii.,  352. 

Micklethwaite,  Dr.,  i.,  201  n. 

Millington,  Dr.,  i.,  269. 

Milton,  John,  i.,  73,  75,  166 ; ii.,  312,  315. 

Molyneux,  Thomas,  ii.,  242,  254  ; Locke’s 
correspondence  with,  ii.,  243 — 245,  468, 

, 471. 

Molyneux,  William,  ii.,  240,  241,  265,  267, 
362  ; Locke’s  friendship  and  correspond- 
ence with,  ii.,  242,  254,  264 — 268,  270— 


274, 276, 277,280, 281.  291.  292,302—304, 
306,  307,  325,  327,  338,  349,  359,  361, 
362,373,  374,  409,  416,  422—424,  437, 
439,  443,  458,  459.  463—467,  517  ; his 
death,  ii.,  467,  471 ; Locke’s  praise  of, 
ii.,  467,  468,  471. 

Monmouth,  Duke  of,  i.,  413,  419,  468,  470, 
481  ; ii.,  19. 

Monmouth,  Earl  of;  sec  Peterborough, 
Earl  of. 

Montagu,  Charles ; see  Halifax,  Earl  of. 

Montague,  Ralph,  i.,  337,  371,  381.  425. 

Montespan,  Madame  de,  i.,  380,  381. 

Montpellier,  i.,  214,  319;  Locke  at,  in 
1675,  i.,  344, 350,  352  ; in  1676,  i.,  347— 
355,  365 ; in  1677,  i.,  365  ; in  1678,  i.,  403. 

Montreuil,  Locke  at,  i.,  338. 

Mordaunt,  Lord;  see  Peterborough,  Earl  of. 

Morrice,  Sir  William,  i.,  131. 

Moulin,  Louis  de,  i.,  65. 

Mullart,  William,  ii.,  274. 

Neil,  Sir  Paul,  i.,  245,  354.  - 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  i..  56, 119.  306  ; Locke’s 
friendship  with,  ii.,  215 — 227,  232,  238, 
239,  514,  515. 

Nicole,  Pierre,  i.,  294  ; his  ‘ Essais  de 
Morale,’  translated  by  Locke,  i.  295 — 
305. 

Nimes,  Locke  at,  i.,  343, 

Norris,  John,  ii.,  275. 

North,  Sir  Dudley,  ii.,  188. 

Northumberland,  Elizabeth,  Countess  of, 
i„  212,  258,  262,  267,  268,  291,  315,  370, 
381—384,  425,  439. 

Northumberland,  Joceline,  eleventh  earl 
of,  i.,  211,  212,  259,  260. 

Oates,  Locke  at,  ii.,  212 — 215,  219,  228, 
235,  245—248,  250,  251,  267,  269,  29  i, 
294,  296—308,  352,  353,  359—361,  393, 
395,  397,  452,  457—463,  467—524,  540 
—560. 

Olantigh  in  Kent,  Locke  at,  i.,  434,  447 — 
449. 

Orange,  Locke  at,  i.,  342. 

Orleans,  Locke  at,  i.,  397,  398. 

Owen,  Dr.  John,  i.,  29,  30, 456  ; his  reforms 
at  Oxford,  i.,  31,  32,  35, 36  ; his  volume 
in  honour  of  Cromwell,  i..  50  ; his  influ- 
ence upon  Locke,  i.,  72 — 76,  166. 

Oxford,  under  Charles  I.,  i.,  26,  27,  39, 
under  the  Commonwealth,  i.,  28 — 38, 
40 ; under  Charles  II.,  i.,  84 — 86,  97, 
421,  470,  479 — -487  ; Locke  at,  i.,  26 — 79, 
84—99,  103,  122,  124,  127—136,  140— 
143,  145—194,  199,  264,  330,  331,  415, 
419,  421,  436,  439,  441,  445,  467.  469, 
470,  478—481. 


572 


INDEX. 


Paris,  Locke  at  in  1672,  i.,  267.  268  ; in 
1676,  i„  340  ; in  1677-8,  L,  367—386  ; 
in  1678-9,  i.,  403—408. 

Parliament  of  1661,  i.,  96;  corporation 
act  and  act  of  uniformity  of  1661,  i.,  96  ; 
conventicle  act  of  1664,  i.,  99,  276; 
session  at  Oxford  in  1666,  i.,  98,99; 
the  declaration  of  indulgence  in  1672.  i., 
275,  276,  282  ; the  session  of  1673, 

i.,  276,  279 — 284;  the  test  act,  i.,  283, 
284,  413. 

Parliament  of  1679,  i.,  411,  413,  414. 

Parliament  of  1680,  i.,  418 — 420. 

Parliament  of  1681,  i.,  420,  421. 

Parliament  of  1689,  ii.,  142,  162,  163,  167 
—161. 

Parliament  of  1690,  ii.,  162 — 164,  263, 
309 — 311 ; abolition  of  the  censorship  of 
the  press,  in  1696,  ii.,  312,  315,  316. 

Parliament  of  1695.  ii.,  317.  326,  349,400, 
465,  466 ; reform  of  the  coinage,  ii., 
327,  333.  337  ; commercial  legislation 
promoted  by  Locke,  ii.,  358,  375. 

Parliament  of  1698,  ii.,  393,  400,  486. 

Parliament  of  1701,  ii.,  486 — 490,  501. 

Parliament  of  1702,  ii. , 601 — 503. 

Pascal,  Blaise,  i.,  294  ; ii.,  276. 

Paterson,  William,  ii.,  295. 

Patrick,  Simon,  Bishop  of  Ely,  i.  212,  261, 
310,  ii.,  149. 

Pembroke,  Thomas,  eighth  earl  of,  with 
Locke  at  Montpellier,  i.,  352,  364  ; their 
friendship  in  London,  i.,  425,  433  ; his 
correspondence  with  Locke  in  Holland, 

1.,  487  ; ii.,  23,  67,  98  ; their  subsequent 
relations,  ii.,  140,  200,  203,  204,  248, 
249,  308,  309  ; Locke’s  praise  of  him,  ii., 
203. 

Penn,  William,  his  procuring  of  a “par- 
don ” for  Locke,  ii. , 23. 

Pensford,  Locke’s  early  home,  i.,  2,  5,  11, 
79. 

Pepys,  Samuel,  i.,  200 ; ii.,  272. 

Percival,  Mary,  i.,  432,  433. 

Percival,  P.,  i.,  416,  432,  475. 

Percy,  Lord  and  Lady  ; see  Northumber- 
land, earl  and  countess  of. 

Percy,  Lady  Elizabeth  (their  daughter, 
“ Lady  Betty  ”)  i.,  269,  317,  318  n. 

Peterborough  and  Monmouth,  Earl  of, 

11. , 56,  83  ; Locke’s  friendship  with,  ii. , 
56,  142,  144—149,  200,  217,  218,  262, 
294,  309,  348,  508—512. 

Peterborough,  Countess  of,  ii.,  83,  84,  86, 
200,  252,  509,  510. 

Picais,  Locke  at,  i.,  345. 

Plague,  the  great,  i.,  497. 

Pococke,  Edward,  Hebrew  and  Arabic 
professor  at  Oxford,  i.,  40,  56,  57,  88, 


119,309;  Locke’s  praise  of  him,  57— 
59. 

Poitiers,  Locke  at,  i.,  366. 

Poix,  Locke  at,  i.  338. 

Pollexfen,  John,  ii.,  352. 

Pont  St.  Esprit,  Locke  at,  i.  342. 

Poor  law  reform,  Locke’s  scheme  of,  ii., 
376—393. 

Popham,  Alexander,  i.,  6,  6 n.,  7 — 9,  16. 

Popple,  William,  ii.,  352  n.  ; his  transla- 
tion of  the  ‘ Epistola  de  Tolerantia,’  ii., 
154 ; Locke’s  relations  with  him,  ii., 
154,  187,  239,  352;  his  work  as  secre- 
tary to  the  council  of  trade,  ii.,  352. 

Press,  the  censorship  of,  Locke’s  share  in 
the  abolition  of,  ii.,  311 — -316. 

Prior,  Matthew,  ii.,  393  n. 

Privy  council,  the  new,  of  1679,  i.,  413. 

Proast,  Jonas,  his  controversy  with  Locke 
concerning  toleration,  ii.,  182 — -184, 
623. 

Publow,  i.,  2,  6 n,  11. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  i.,  236. 

Remonstrants,  the,  ii.,  6 — 8. 

Re-coinage  bill  of  1695,  ii.,  327,  333,  337. 

Reynolds,  Edward,  Dean  of  Christ  Church, 
i„  28,  78. 

Rochefort,  Locke  at,  i.,  400. 

Romer,  Olaus,  Locke’s  friendship  with,  i., 
386,  425,  427,  442. 

Rotterdam,  Locke  at,  ii.,  53,  58 — 62,  68 — 
70,  74—86. 

Royal  Society,  the,  i.,  93,  245 ; Locke’s 
membership  of  and  connection  with,  i., 
245,  246,  318,  329,  255,  367,  385,  427, 
435. 

Rush,  Isaac,  his  letters  to  Locke,  i.,  292, 
393  n. 

Russell,  Lord  William,  i.,  413,  417,  468, 
478,  480;  ii.,  3. 

Rutland,  Countess  of,  her  letters  to  Locke, 

i.,  204—207. 

Rutland,  Earl  of,  i.,  204. 

St.  Vallier,  Locke  at,  i..  342. 

Salisbury,  Locke  at,  i.,  249,  264,  438. 

Sandwich,  Earl  of,  1,  122. 

“ Scawen,  my  brother,”  i.,  269. 

Serjeant,  John,  ii.,  439. 

Shaftesbury,  Anthony,  first  earl  of,  i.,  96, 
98,  138,  139,  231,  374,  276—278,  315, 
353  ; Locke’s  introduction  to,  i.,  140 — 

142,  166,  195 ; Locke’s  residence  with, 

143,  144,  147,  197,  198 ; Locke’s  ser- 
vices to  as  family  physician,  i.,  197,  199, 
230  ; his  great  malady  and  its  cure  by 
Locke,  i.,  139,  141,-200,  201,  220;  his 
letter  to  Dr.  Fell  about  Locke’s  M.D. 


INDEX, 


573 


degree  and  medical  studentship,  i.,  209 ; 
his  share  in  the  planting  of  Carolina, 

i.,  236—245,  287,  293,  and  of  the  Baha- 
mas, i.,  290  ; raised  to  the  peerage,  i., 
270  ; president  of  the  council  of  trade, 

i.,  270,  285;  lord  chancellor,  i.,  270, 
278 — 285  ; his  place  in  the  cabal,  i., 
271 — 278  ; his  annuity  to  Locke,  i.,  332  ; 
his  disgrace,  i.,  284,  335,  365,  377,  410 ; 
his  return  to  power,  i.,  411 ; Locke’s 
later  relations  with  him,  i.,  411 — 424, 
436,  439.  441,  445,  470  ; his  conspiracy 
and  death,  i.,  468 — 472  ; Locke’s  epi- 
taph for,  i.,  472  ; his  letters  to  Locke, 

i.,  204,  277,  293,  365,  415;  Locke’s 
letters  to,  i.,  416,  424 ; his  opinion  of 
Locke,  i.,  140,  143  n.,  202,  205,  210; 
Locke’s  opinion  of,  i.,  141. 143  n.,  472  «.; 
Lady  Masham’s  praise  of,  i.,  142  n. ; 
Dryden’s  satire  of,  i.,  137. 

Shaftesbury,  Anthony,  second  earl  of, 
at  Oxford,  i.,  140,  205,  249,  422.  473  ; 
Locke’s  services  as  his  tutor,  i.,  197,  203  ; 
and  in  finding  a wife  for  him,  i.,  203 — 

205. 

Shaftesbury,  Anthony,  third  earl  of,  i., 
206  ; ii. , 162  ; birth  of,  i.,  206  ; edu- 
cation of,  i.,  377,  418,  422—424,  471, 
473 ; Locke’s  later  relations  with,  ii., 
201,  202,  239,  309,  317  n.,  486,  490,  508; 
his  notices  of  Locke,  i.,  140,  198,  201 — 
203,  282,  285,  424. 

Shaftesbury,  Dorothy,  Countess  of ; 
Locke’s  share  in  her  marriage,  i.,  203 — 

206,  422 ; his  medical  attendance  on, 

i.,  205 — 208,  220 ; his  letters  to  Locke, 

i.,  207. 

Shaftesbury,  Margaret,  countess  of,  i., 
208,  212,  354:  Locke’s  dedication  of 
Pierre  Nicole’s  1 Discourses  ’ to  her,  i. , 
295 — 297  ; Locke’s  later  relations  with 
her,  i.,  446,  471 ; her  letters  to  Locke, 

i.,  208,  471. 

Sherlock,  Dr.,  ii.,  405. 

Sidney,  Algernon,  i.,  212,  478,  480;  ii. , 3. 

Skelton,  Colonel  Bevil,  ii.,  21,  26. 

Slade,  Matthew,  ii.,  209  n. 

Sloane,  Sir  Hans,  Locke’s  friendship  and 
correspondence  with,  ii.,  296,  477,  483, 
492,  543  n. 

Somers,  Sir  John,  afterwards  lord  chan- 
cellor, ii.,  159,  401  ; Locke’s  relations 
with,  iii.,  160—163,  187,  239,  310,  311, 
326,  330,  332,  333,  346,  348,  350,  359— 
361,  397,  398,  400. 

South,  Robert,  at  Westminster  school  with 
Locke,  19  n. ; his  share  in  the  trini- 
tarian controversy,  ii.,  405. 

Spinoza,  i.,  65;  ii.,  15. 


Stahl,  Peter,  i.,  93,  94  n. 

Stillingfleet,  Edward,  bishop  of  Worces- 
ter, i.,  261,  314,  456,  486;  ii.,  419,  423  ; 
his  ‘ Unreasonableness  of  Separation  ’ 
answered  by  Locke,  i.,  456 — 461  ; his 
later  controversy  with  Locke,  ii.,  419 — 
437,  440,  441,  494. 

Strachey,  John,  i.,  104,  124 ; Locke’s 
friendship  with,  i.,  124,  266 ; Locke’s 
letters  to,  i.,  104—118,  122,  123,  198; 
letters  to  Locke,  i.,  312,  329. 

Stratton,  Peter,  Locke’s  cousin,  ii.,  450, 
540. 

Stringer,  Thomas,  Shaftesbury’s  secretary, 

i.,  278,  291,  426,  433,  434  ; his  letters  to 
Locke,  i.,  334,  354,  356,  366,  376,  377, 
423,  426  n. 

Stubbe,  Henry,  i.,  37. 

Sydenham,  Thomas,  his  early  life,  i..212  ; 
his  writings,  i.,  214,  219,  354,  371,  452 — 
455 ; ii.,  45  n.,  61 ; Locke’s  friendship 
and  medical  work  with,  i.,  201  n.,  219, 
228—235,  260,  279,  327,  331,  372,  373. 
384,  425.  449,  452—455;  ii„  3,  243; 
his  medical  advice  to  Locke,  i.,  335  ; 
his  praise  of  Locke,  i.,  219 ; Locke’s 
praise  of,  i.,  231 ; ii.,  243 — 245. 

Sydenham,  William,  i.,  221. 

Tankerville.  Earl  of,  his  share  in  Mon- 
mouth’s rebellion,  i.,  481;  ii.,  19;  his 
false  statements  about  I.ocke,  ii.,  20 ; 
his  commissionership  of  trade,  ii.,  352. 

Tarara-root,  i.,  326. 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  i.,  73. 

Tenison,  Thomas,  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, Locke’s  letters  to,  ii.,  338,  339. 

Test  act  of  1673,  i.,  282. 

Thanet  House,  Aldersgate  Street,  Locke 
at,  i.,  411,  413,  416,  426,  430,  435,  438, 
439,  445. 

Thevenot,  Melchisedech,  i.,  386. 

Thomas,  David,  i.,  60 ; Locke’s  acquaint- 
ance with  at  Oxford,  i.,  60,  61,  132, 133, 
140,  141  ; and  afterwards  i.,  248 — 250, 
425,  433,  438  ; ii.,  23,  67,  483. 

Thoynard,  Nicolas,  i.,  385 ; Locke’s 

friendship  with,  i.,  385,  386,  405;  ii., 
49  ; Locke’s  letters  to,  i.,  398,  400,  408, 
426—431,435,437,  439—444,  486;  ii., 
16,  18,  42,  43,  80,  97,  469,  470,  484,  517. 

Tilliard,  Locke  at,  i. , 340. 

Tillotson,  John,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 

i.,  77,  170,  212,  261,  275:  ii.,  338; 
Locke’s  friendship  with,  i.,  269,  309  ; ii., 
236—238,  249. 

Toland,  John,  ii.,  415 — 417,  418  n.\  his 
‘Christianity  not  Mysterious,’  ii.,  415, 
417. 


574 


INDEX, 


Toleration  act  of  1869,  ii.,  160,  162. 

Tonson,  Jacob,  ii. , 364. 

Toulon,  Locke  at,  i. , 346. 

Toulouse,  Locke  at,  i.,  366,  403. 

Tours,  Locke  at,  i.,  366,  374 — 419. 

Townshend, , Locke’s  pupil,  i.,  87. 

Trade  and  foreign  plantations,  Locke 
secretary  of  the  council  of,  i.,  286 — 
287,  293,  294,  332,  336. 

Trade  and  plantations,  council  of,  ii. , 347 
— 362  ; Locke’s  share  in  it  as  one  of  the 
commissioners,  ii.,  349 — 394. 

Troger,  Abbd.  i.,  400. 

Trumbull,  Sir  William,  ii.,  350. 

Tuberville,  Dr.,  i.,  446. 

Tyrrell,  James,  i.,  60 ; ii.,  167  ; Locke’s 
acquaintance  with  at  Oxford,  i„  42,  61; 
and  afterwards,  i. , 248,  425,  433,  436, 
441,  467,  483  ; ii.,  23,  68  n.,  162,  203  n., 
209  n.,  523. 

Uniformity  act  of  1661,  i.,  96. 

Utrecht,  Locke  at,  in  1684-6,  i.,  14, 16 — 18, 
22,  29  ; in  1686,  ii.,  47—52. 

Vane,  Sir  Henry  the  elder,  i.,  100. 

Vane,  Sir  Henry  the  younger,  i.,  96.  100. 

Vane,  Sir  Walter,  i.,  100,  101,  103,  104, 
119,  121. 

Veen,  Dr.,  Locke’s  friendship  with,  ii., 
22,  26,  28,  46,  68,  69,  86,  156,  208,  640. 

Versailles,  Locke’s  visit  to,  i.,  379. 

Virginia,  i.,  236. 

Wallis,  George,  i.,  338. 

Wallis,  John,  geometry  professor  at  Ox- 
ford, i.,  48,  66,  85,  93,  431 ; ii.,  405. 


Ward,  Seth,  astronomy  professor  at  Ox- 
ford, i.,  55,  56. 

Watkins,  Mrs.  Francis,  her  account  of 
Locke,  i.,  4,  n. 

West,  Joseph,  his  letters  to  Locke,  i., 
288. 

Westminster  School,  i.,  17,  18;  Locke’s 
studies  there,  i.,  18 — 25. 

Whichcote,  Dr.,  i.,  212. 

Wilkins,  Bishop,  i.,  309. 

Wilkinson,  Henry,  i. , 46. 

William  the  Third,  his  visit  to  Oxford 
while  Prince  of  Orange,  i.,  209;  the  plans 
for  his  obtaining  the  English  crown,  i., 
414,419,468;  ii.,  54  ; Locke’s  acquaint- 
ance with  in  Holland,  ii.,  57  ; his  sub- 
sequent friendship  and  relations  with 
Locke,  ii. , 394 — 400,  453  ; his  death,  ii., 
503. 

Williamson,  Sir  Joseph,  i.,  98,  101,  209  ; 
Locke’s  letter  to,  i.,  121. 

Willis,  John,  physician  at  Oxford,  i.,  76, 
80  n.,  93,  139,  218. 

Wimborne  St.  Giles’s,  Dorsetshire,  Locke 
at,  143,  200,  207,  266,  416. 

Wood,  Anthony,  i.,  94  n. 

Wood,  Sir  Edward,  i.,  319,  322,  325. 

Workum,  Locke  at,  ii.,  10. 

Worsley,  Benjamin,  i.,  286. 

Wren,  Sir  Christopher,  i.,  93  ; ii.,  354. 

Wrington,  Locke’s  birthplace,  i.,  4,  12. 

Wriothesley,  Lady  Elizabeth,  see  North- 
umberland, Countess  of. 

Wynne.  John,  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  ii., 
275. 

Yonge,  Sir  Walter,  ii.,  162. 


THE  END. 


D00508628T 


r 


192.2  B775L  v.2  383575 


